For Now
by leaysaye
Summary: Rick Grimes is the Sheriff's Deputy in King County. One day, he and his partner Shane Walsh get a coffee at a coffee shop. There, Rick meets someone. Please read Chapter 1 which is an explanation of the story idea. This IS a Rickyl story. Slash.
1. Chapter 1

Ok, this will take some time to explain, dear reader. Please bear with me.

This is a Rickyl fic, more than anything else. It's definitely not RPF, promise. But if you don't even want to read about a character called Norman, please stop now. I won't mind. :)

The Norman in this fic is an amalgamation of Norman Reedus's film and TV personae. You will recognise a lot of different elements (I hope) from the various roles he's played over the years. I just basically need a name for my character that will resonate with my audience.

A lot of what I'm going to describe about the character will be Daryl-based, but there will be some OOC elements, because that's the character that's developing in my head. A sort-of Daryl in a universe without walkers, with a slightly different back story, which will emerge gradually. Do read on if you are curious. :)

So who is this fictional Norman? Well, he looks like this. Or this... Damn, now I'm getting distracted, lol...

But he's so young, you say? Yes, well, this Norman is young. Think of Rick to be about 37 (as Andy was when TWD started) and Norman to be about 30. I know he looks even younger than that here, but I think this is approximately his age in those pictures. Don't let the babyface fool you... too late, I know...

If this isn't your cup of tea, or rather coffee, no hard feelings. I get it. The rest of you, enjoy the ride!

 **This story is utterly, completely made up. No inspiration was drawn from real life events. The Norman in this story shares nothing with the real Norman Reedus except his name - and his angelic good looks. ;)**


	2. Chapter 2

"C'mon man, you know I hate these places. It's just ground coffee and water, why do they charge me $10 for a cup?"

Shane stopped, shook his head. Hands resting on his hips he half turned.

"You really have no idea what cosmopolitan means, do you, Rick?"

Rick stopped too, feeling mildly indignant. He'd never suspected a word like cosmopolitan even featured in Shane's vocabulary. He half grinned, sighed, and carried on walking.

"All right, all right. As long as they don't put anything in my coffee that tastes of vanilla. I hate vanilla."

Shane grinned at him and clapped him on the back as he caught up. "Peasant."

The store was pleasantly warm after the chill outside. The pervading smell of coffee reminded Rick just how many hours it had been since his last cup, that morning, at his desk in the station. He secretly agreed with Shane. It hadn't been half a bad idea to come in here.

Shane was already at the counter, giving his order to a pretty blond girl behind the till. Rick looked at the board above her head with a frown. How could there be so many things you could do to coffee?

"What can I get you, officer?"

For a few seconds Rick didn't clock it was him the guy was addressing, even though it should have been pretty obvious. Tearing his eyes away from the menu Rick was startled by the eyes that met his. They were of a clear, brilliant blue like he'd hardly ever seen before. The startling eyes belonged to a young man with tousled dark hair. Afterwards Rick never quite knew why, but he thought the eyes looked a bit sad and the young man oddly out of place, even though he was wearing the same dark green uniform as the girl who had served Shane.

"Err…"

The young man's eyes remained on him steadily. He didn't look impatient, but his gaze unsettled Rick nevertheless. It was hard enough not to come across as a complete idiot here, and these eyes were just not helping. As if reading his mind the young guy finally looked away, busying his hands with a dish towel. Rick mentally shook himself. He'd never found buying a cup of coffee quite this stressful.

"Uh, can I get a black coffee?"

"Filter or Americano?"

"Err… I don't know? What's Americano?"

The blue eyes were back on him, suspicious for just a second. But then the gaze softened as the man realized that Rick was not having him on but genuinely had no idea.

"Tell you what. Lemme make you an Americano, and if you don't like it the filter's on the house."

Rick nodded, bemused. The young man cast him a quick smile, then set to work. Rick watched him deftly handling the large, gleaming machine. Rick was not usually one to stare at strangers for no reason, but somehow he found it hard to look away. Finally the young man handed him a paper cup.

"Try it."

Rick took a careful sip of the hot liquid, and felt instantly better.

"Not bad!"

The smile on the other man's face was hesitant, but definitely there. His eyes really were very blue.

"That's $3."

Rick turned to the blond girl by the till who was looking at him expectantly. He moved over towards her, not quite voluntarily, because a group of new customers crowded in behind him just that moment. As he handed the girl the money he glanced back at the man with the blue eyes. He was now busy taking the orders of several very excited teenage girls. Taking his change from the girl behind the till Rick followed Shane out the door.

"That wasn't so bad, was it? Nobody tried to poison you with syrup, see?"

Rick aimed a small punch at Shane's arm as he took another sip from his coffee. No, it hadn't been nearly as horrible an experience as he'd expected, and this really was a nice cup of coffee.


	3. Chapter 3

Rick didn't even know that this had been where he was heading until he pulled up outside that trendy coffee shop again. It was a Saturday, and he and Lori had just had the biggest row in years. He simply had to get out of the house for a bit.

But it was mid-November, and it was freezing out, low 30s at the most. Rick didn't like driving around with no purpose. He hated wasting gas, he did enough of that driving that tank of a car all day at work. Why they still had this behemoth of a police car was really beyond him…

And Rick realized he was stalling, and his feet were getting cold in the stationary vehicle with the engine off. What was there to hesitate about? He knew how this place worked now, he knew how to order himself a coffee. That's what he'd come back here for, coffee. Right?

With determination Rick threw the car door wide and got out. When he entered the café he could tell with one sweep of the room that the dark-haired barista (and had Shane not laughed himself silly when Rick had asked him what that word meant, immature jerk) wasn't in the store.

Determinedly convincing himself that it hardly mattered and that anyone could make his coffee, Rick let the door fall shut behind him. As he approached the counter he could hear voices from the back.

"I told you, you can't do that. This isn't a flophouse…."

"All right, all right, keep your hair on. I heard you…"

"Good. Get back to work then!"

Rick looked back down from the menu which he'd pretended to study so he could listen in on the argument without being interrupted right away. He saw two men emerge from a back room. The older one, someone he had never seen before, walked right past him without looking. The other was the dark-haired young man with the unusual eyes.

Rick thought he looked distracted, even angry. No, more stressed and scared. He didn't look at Rick as he stepped up to the counter.

"What can I get you?"

"Americano, please."

The barista looked at him then. For a moment he still seemed preoccupied and his eyes weren't really focusing. But then he seemed to remember Rick, his eyes softened and he gave a half smile.

"Officer. You liked it then?"

Rick nodded, smiled back. He was again captivated by the blueness of the other's eyes.

"You not working today?" The barista gestured. "No uniform."

"Um, no. Day off… was just passing."

But the other's eyes were no longer on him. He was glancing over Rick's shoulder, and Rick turned and saw the older man from before. He must be the store manager, and he now glared at the younger man. Rick looked back at the man in front of him. He'd dropped his eyes, scowling.

Now he busied himself with the espresso machine and didn't look at Rick again. Rick was puzzled. Why would the manager have a problem with his employees making small talk with customers? Surely that could only help increase revenue?

Rick handed the barista his $3 and took the coffee from him. He was sorry to see the young man so downcast. For a moment he considered saying something, but before he had the chance the young man, still not looking at him, disappeared into the back of the store again, slipping off his green apron as he went.

Rick felt torn. He'd planned to sit down in the café for a while, let some time pass before heading back home. Now he wasn't so sure he wanted to. When he spotted the young man through the side window lighting a cigarette near the back of the building he made up his mind. He glanced around. The manager had disappeared. Rick exited the store.

"Hey."

He advanced towards the other man and lifted his cup. The other glanced at him, looking a little apprehensive.

"Nice coffee. Thanks."

The young man visibly relaxed. He took a drag from his cigarette.

"You're welcome. Want a smoke?"

Rick shook his head.

"Gave up years ago."

The young man nodded thoughtfully at the pavement.

"Yeah, 's a filthy habit…"

Rick deliberated. Why had he come out here after the guy? Something was clearly drawing him to this stranger, who seemed so friendly and approachable, and yet had a sadness about him. Maybe that's what attracted him, Rick thought. He held out his hand.

"I'm Rick."

The other looked surprised for a moment, then shook the offered hand.

"Norman."

Norman seemed disinclined to say anything else, but Rick, out of habit, let the silence go on for a little while. He liked to observe people when they were subjected to silence. He'd found over the years as a cop that you could learn a lot about a person by seeing them react to a moment of quietness.

Norman didn't seem perturbed. He continued to smoke his cigarette, glancing in the distance. Rick noticed the other man seemed unable to hold still for even a few moments. He was continually fidgeting with his hands, stepping from one foot onto the other. Oddly, Rick thought, it didn't seem to be nervousness, just… energy. He found it endearing.

"That your boss, gave you that evil eye?"

Norman glanced up, distaste at the mention of the manager clear as day on his face.

"Barry, yeah. Fucker…" he added under his breath, then glanced up again, now looking a little nervous after all. Rick smiled to let him know he didn't disagree.

"He got a bit of a micromanagement style going there?"

Norman snorted.

"He's an ijit, that's what he is… he jus' tol' me…"

But then Norman suddenly stopped, and when he glanced at Rick again his expression was guarded. Suddenly no longer moving constantly he dropped his cigarette butt jerkily and stomped it out.

"Listen," and now his tone was carefully neutral, "nice you stopped by. See you again sometime?"

And barely waiting for a nod from Rick Norman disappeared back inside through a fire escape door.

Rick looked at the door for a moment, thoughtful. He'd had this happen before, people clamping up because they knew he was a police officer. It could get a bit frustrating at times.

He turned and walked slowly back to his car, mulling it all over in his head. Had that really been all that was going on there, he wondered. Or maybe the young man – Norman, Rick reminded himself – just didn't like to share his life story with a virtual stranger.

Draining the rest of his coffee and depositing the cup in a trash bin next to his car Rick sighed and pressed the unlock button on his key. Back to the lioness's den, then. Maybe Lori would be in a less shrill mood after having cooled off for a bit.


	4. Chapter 4

It was properly dark outside now. He'd lingered long after the others had gone, waving them off, reassuring them he didn't mind locking up. He'd ignored Barry's glares, too. He knew that jerk was fighting an internal battle between his suspicions of Norman and getting home to his roast dinner. In the end, when Norman had made no move to leave, the roast dinner had won.

Norman sighed as he locked the office door. His head had started to hurt right around lunchtime, just when that cop had left, and now the pain was just short of agony behind his left eye. Just what he needed, a night in the street with a migraine. Cos that was the prospect now, sleeping in the street. King County didn't have a shelter, and even if it did he doubt he'd ever go. He briefly considered going against Barry's orders and staying in the store again like he had the last three nights, but the manager's message had been loud and clear.

"Don't you dare, if you want to keep your job!"

And the truth was, Norman needed to keep this job, even if it paid pittance. And Barry would come back and check he was gone, once he'd had his dinner. Norman knew he would.

At least he had Merle's motorbike. It was hidden away behind the dumpsters, just in case Merle came to the store once he realized the bike was gone. Thinking about it, though, Norman wasn't sure his half-brother even knew where he worked. Or that he remembered, if he'd once known. That's what enough dope to float a small country's economy would eventually do to you. A brain soft as Brie cheese.

Norman thought he might ride into Atlanta and find an overnight café to hole up in, or maybe sleep on a bench at the bus station. Not like he'd never done that before. At least there he'd be indoors. It'd mean wasting most of his remaining cash on gas, but he could think of no alternative.

Merle had made it very clear what would happen if he ever showed up again.

"If I ever see your queer ass in my house again you're not leaving here alive," he'd snarled as he'd tossed Norman's jacket out after him and slammed the front door shut.

It had been a shock, Merle coming back and finding him with the boy on the living room floor. Norman had no idea what had made him do it, pick up a stranger in a bar and take him home. Loneliness, perhaps. He'd sure felt lonely, and increasingly so as things went from bad to worse with Merle. And the guy had had something about him…he couldn't really explain it. Norman had never seen him before, and he doubted he'd see him again. He'd scarpered as soon as Merle had barged in. Norman thought his name had been Gareth, but even that was only a guess.

He'd been so sure Merle wouldn't be back for a few days, at the very least. Before he left he'd grunted something about "business" in Atlanta, and Norman knew that meant drugs. And when Merle went to Atlanta for drugs you'd be lucky to see him again in under a week. Or unlucky, depending on the point of view.

Norman had known for a long time that Merle was violently homophobic, but they'd never properly discussed it. Over the years he'd learned not even to hint at anything to do with his sex life, but he'd become increasingly uneasy listening to Merle and his buddies bragging about the gay-bashing they got up to. He'd ignored it mostly as empty bragging, but recently there had been rumors passed around the clubs and bars of a group of thugs lying in wait and attacking people leaving certain gay-friendly bars or, in some cases, their own homes.

That he had a homophobic prick for a brother was bad enough in this day and age, but as Merle's drug use spiraled out of control and he became increasingly abusive and threatening Norman had become more and more apprehensive of him. And here he was, out on his ass in the street. He considered grimly that he'd been lucky. Had he just been a random guy Merle encountered out with his pals he might not even be here now to worry about how he'd spend the night.

Norman gave the café one last sweeping glance and picked up his bag. He'd hung around the house when Merle had thrown him out, and when his brother next left had snuck back inside through his bedroom window, which had a loose latch and was easy to open from the outside. He had considered wryly that somehow he'd feared this sort of thing might happen and that he'd subconsciously prepared for the day Merle would tire of him.

Not much had ever been worth taking from the house, and as Merle's addictions escalated that had become increasingly the case. Almost everything of value had been pawned off for small change already. Norman had left his bedroom door unlocked, even though he knew Merle would sell off anything now that wasn't nailed down. He'd considered it fair payment for taking the bike, though Merle would disagree, he knew.

He let himself out of the side entrance of the store now, setting the alarm as he went. He didn't even hear the door fall shut before they were on him.

For a second nothing seemed to be making any sense, and his brain couldn't catch up with reality. Then he felt himself being lifted into the air a moment before he crashed down hard enough to make all his bones rattle.

There was no pain to speak of for another second, but then it hit the harder. The guy landing on top of him was huge and heavy, and just the impact sent a searing pain through his ribs. The back of his head collided forcefully with the asphalt and stars were suddenly scattering across his field of vision.

It had all happened so fast, and he was so winded that he didn't have the wherewithal to resist as his arms were yanked backwards in an iron vice. Norman cried out once then, as his right shoulder popped. He was on his side, a searing pain radiating from the shoulder all down his arm and side. A heavy boot, placed right into his armpit made agony explode all through his chest. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't see, he couldn't move.

The kicks came hard and fast. Ribs cracked, then nothing for a moment as a steel boot cap connected with his head. When he came to after only seconds of blissful oblivion there was something running into his eyes, sticky and burning, and he couldn't blink it away.

Fists connecting with his jaw, his teeth, eyes, nose, and he struggled to free his hands, cower, shield his head.

No use.

Fists and kicks to his stomach, again and again. More kicks. Ribs, kidneys, between his legs. A hard stomp, then another, to the back of his knee made him cry out again, then gag with the pain, bile bitter at the back of his throat.

"Get his bag."

"Hold him, lemme teach him a lesson."

Then, sickeningly, hands on his buttocks, yanking on his pants. Rough fingers groping, between his legs, pushing up clothes, tugging on his waistband. He struggled harder, trying desperately, panicky, to get away.

"No…" His voice barely a whisper, throat raw with yelling and horror.

"What is this, lil' whore? I thought you like that sort of thing…"

A hand on him, squeezing so hard he yelled again. His head felt like it'd split in two, and he gagged as sickness surged through him like lightning.

Another kick to the head, a grunt.

"Keep'm down, dammit!"

Then, suddenly, glaring lights again, but not in his head this time. Tires screeching. Muttered curses as the hands disappeared. Feet running.

He knew he was on the verge of passing out, and that it was inevitable. But he tried to fight it, had to be sure, had to know they were gone before he let the blackness take him.

A car door slammed. More footsteps. Then a voice, familiar.

"Dear lord…"

It was ok, he was safe. He wasn't alone any more, help was at hand. Norman gave in to the darkness.


	5. Chapter 5

At first Rick wasn't sure it was even him, there was so much blood on the side of the face he could see. But once he crouched down by the man's side and saw the tousled dark hair in the glare of his own car's headlights he had no doubt. It was Norman.

Rick wasn't sure what to do for the best. The other man wasn't moving, but even from the little of him Rick could see he knew the injuries were extensive. There was blood still seeping from a big gash to his forehead and the angle of the right arm in the faded denim jacket was all wrong. Rick wasn't sure where to take hold of him without hurting Norman more.

The younger man's breathing sounded ragged, and Rick knew they had to get him to the hospital, and quickly. He was just pulling his cell phone out of his pocket when he heard a groan. Rick leaned over Norman as the other started to push himself up.

"Norman, buddy. Can you hear me?"

Another groan. As he tried to put his right hand on the ground for leverage Norman suddenly gave a yell and his arm crumpled under him. Rick grabbed him then without thinking so he wouldn't fall face first onto the asphalt. The injured man's left hand came up and grabbed the front of Rick's jacket hard, and he clung on, whimpering, as he rode out a wave of agony. Rick could feel him shaking against himself, and he dropped to his knees to give better support.

It took a considerable amount of time for all of Norman's senses to return to the younger man. Rick could feel him calm down slowly, until he finally attempted to push himself up again, using Rick as leverage. Rick could tell the effort was considerable, and he helped Norman into a sitting position as gently as he could. He still wasn't quite sure what part of his body Norman would be able to tolerate any touch on. Rick tried again to get a sense of the other's overall condition.

"Norman, it's Rick. Do you know what happened? Can you tell me where it hurts the most?"

The reply came slurred, but at least there was a response now.

"Rick…? Y'were here, t'day…"

"Yes, I was. Norman, you need to go to the hospital. I'll call an ambulance…"

"No!"

The vehemence with which that reply came made Norman double up again with a groan. Rick held him while he rode it out, and it suddenly occurred to him that he'd placed one hand on the back of the other man's neck, drawing soothing circles on one of the few areas of Norman's body that wasn't bruised or bloodied.

"No choice, man. You got beaten up real bad, you need to see a doctor…"

The reply came breathless, from between clenched teeth.

"No 'mbulance…"

Rick considered. It was a ruse, it was inadvisable, and it would be more than painful, but as things stood he knew it had the best chance of succeeding. And they had to move off this pavement, he could feel the other man flagging badly.

"Ok then. Will you get into my car?"

After a moment Rick could feel Norman nodding against his chest. He took a deep breath, braced himself.

"All right then. Be strong, this'll hurt."

Somehow Rick got them both upright, but for a minute or so he wasn't sure Norman wouldn't pass out again. He half wished it, then he could just call the ambulance, which he was increasingly certain would be the right thing to do in any case.

Rick wasn't sure how long they just stood there, Norman leaning on him heavily. His breathing sounded increasingly rattly and Rick could feel him shiver. He held him up as best he could but he knew that his arm around him hurt Norman increasingly. His strength was sapping away and Rick grew more concerned by the moment.

"D'you think you can move without blacking out? We can't keep standing here…"

Norman nodded against him.

"Yeah… let's…"

The few steps to Rick's car seemed to take forever. Norman favored his left leg, Rick could tell, the right one seemingly of hardly any use at all. When he maneuvered the injured man into the passenger seat Rick accidentally brushed against Norman's right shoulder and Norman gave a yell that made Rick jump. He slumped hard into the car seat and Rick was sure he'd lose consciousness.

Instead, after a moment, Norman started pushing himself up again, movement erratic, almost panicky. Rick tried to help but Norman shook his head.

"No, 'm gonna be sick…" he mumbled and no sooner had he managed to halfway lean out of the car when that became true enough.

Rick stood by helplessly as Norman first vomited for what felt like an eternity, then couldn't stop gagging for even longer, despite there remaining nothing to bring up. He was shaking and Rick could see tears glisten on his bloodied cheeks. When Norman seemed on the verge of losing his balance and falling out of the car Rick automatically stepped forward and caught him round the chest. To hell with his shoes.

Finally the gagging subsided. His breath catching in his throat several times Norman inhaled as deeply as he could manage with his busted chest and finally brought up the hand of his uninjured arm, placing it on Rick's chest. Rick looked down and was met by a feverish gaze from those blue eyes that had first caught his attention. Close to he could see just how much of a bloody mess the other man's face was.

There were deep cuts to his eyebrow and lower lip, and his left eye was starting to swell shut. Talking seemed increasingly difficult, too, and Norman needed several attempts to get the next words out.

"Think 'ight nee' t'ospitl, af'r 'll…"

Rick felt relief and exasperation.

"Yeah man, you do. Y'ok for now? Can we drive?"

Norman nodded and Rick helped him sit back in the seat. Then he closed the passenger door and hurried round to the other side. Before he had the door quite open he spotted Norman's bag still lying by the back exit of the café. He quickly went to retrieve it and put it in the boot of the car.

Then he got in and glanced over at Norman who lay half slumped in the seat, head lolling against the headrest, eyes closed. Rick saw with worry how pale he was under the blood and dirt on his face. He was holding his right arm at an awkward angle against his chest and the other lay curled around his midriff. There was perspiration on his forehead and his breath was more labored than ever.

Rick felt himself go cold as he pulled away from the curb and started the short drive to the hospital. What if he hadn't gone back to the café? That part of the town centre was usually deserted at night, and the only reason he had even realized there was something going on in the shadows of the coffee shop was that he'd been focusing on the building in the first place.

The reason for his journey back to the shop Rick was barely able to acknowledge to himself. The argument between Barry and Norman had replayed in his mind again and again that afternoon, and Rick was increasingly convinced that the mention of flophouses could mean only one thing: Norman had been staying at the café, and after the argument with Barry would now be forced out onto the street.

After another row with Lori about something completely and utterly ridiculous Rick had fled the house again and had decided to check on Norman, make sure he was all right, if he could. If there were any other motives Rick was not yet ready to admit them, even to himself.

Instead he started to muse about what had happened to Norman outside the shop. Why had the thugs attacked him? Had they been after money, thinking that whoever closed up the store must be carrying the day's earnings? But why beat him up so badly? And his bag had still been there. Had Rick's arrival scared them away before they could grab it? Or was something else entirely going on?

Rick's musings were distracted by Norman starting to stir next to him. Rick glanced over just as they were turning into the road leading towards the hospital.

"We're almost there. Something the matter? You feeling sick again?"

Norman's movements were clumsy and slugging, and he couldn't quite focus on Rick. His nod, however, was unmistakable. Rick pulled over immediately. They were only about twenty yards away from the hospital's driveway. He reached across Norman and pushed the door open just in time. To prevent the injured man from toppling out of the car he gently clasped his left arm as Norman leaned out of the car, retching.

The truth was Rick wouldn't have cared much about any mess in the car. He had a nine-year old son, after all. But he was still glad to spare Norman the further humiliation of throwing up all over a stranger's car.

As soon as Norman started to regain some control of himself he clumsily tried to get out.

"What are you doing?"

Rick felt panicked now. They needed to get help before Norman got any worse.

"'m goin'…"

"Going where? Norman, you need a doctor, you're hurt!"

Not caring now as much about causing renewed pain as he did about keeping Norman safe Rick pushed him back into the seat, reached across and pulled the door shut. Norman groaned and closed his eyes again.

"Don' nee' help… got'a go…"

"You're not going anywhere. Stay put, we're almost there."

Rick quickly drove them up the drive to the hospital entrance, and finally they met with some good fortune. An orderly was busy rounding up abandoned wheelchairs outside the lit entrance to the ER and approached curiously as the car drove up. Rick got out, grateful not to have to deal with this on his own any longer. He called over to the orderly.

"Please, can you help us? I've got an assault victim here with severe injuries."


	6. Chapter 6

It took them no time at all to get seen. Bleeding and puking on the floor of the ER seemed to get you a room, a bed and a doctor pronto, it appeared. Rick stowed that information away for future reference.

The nurse who'd ushered Norman into a room had been adamant that Rick wait in the visitor area, and while he felt a little guilty to be so easily persuaded to leave the injured man alone Rick had complied gladly. The truth was that the amount of pain Norman appeared to be in, and the extent of the injuries Rick suspected to be the cause of that, made him keen not to witness the medical staff taking care of the immediate damage.

The doctor came to him after three quarters of an hour.

"Would you mind sitting with him a while? He's quite agitated and a friendly face might help him settle down while we wait for the CT scanner to become available."

"Sure." Rick got up and followed the doctor. "How bad are the injuries? He seemed to be in so much pain…"

The doctor sighed. "We'll know more after we've done all the scans but I'm worried, I won't lie. Someone must've really lain into him." He counted off on his fingers as they entered the room. "Concussion. Dislocated shoulder. Half a dozen busted ribs. Bruised lung. Cuts, abrasions, hematomas to his face and torso. Possibly a cracked knee cap. No idea yet about internal injuries, that's what we need the CT for…"

Rick looked over to the bed. Norman lay connected to an array of wires, tubes and catheters, and he looked oddly small in his hospital gown. Now that the blood and dirt had been washed off Rick could see just how pale and bruised he was.

Rick walked over and Norman's head came round. He seemed more awake and less disoriented than before, but the pain still reflected in the blue eyes - or what he could see of them, since the left one was almost completely hidden now behind an angry, bruised swelling - made Rick's heart ache. He tried to smile and stepped close.

"Hey. How're you feeling?"

A shadow seemed to cross Norman's face, and Rick had the feeling he wanted nothing more than to be left alone. He didn't say anything to that effect, however, just gave a small shrug.

"Been better, I s'pose…"

"Maybe you can talk some sense into him," the doctor interjected. "We need to call the police…"

"I _am_ the police." Rick kept his eyes trained on Norman as he said it, and thought he saw a glimmer of fear in the blue eyes as the realization hit home.

"Good, then…"

"Would you excuse us for a minute, doc?" Rick faced the doctor with his most winning police officer smile. Slightly taken aback, the doctor nodded hesitantly. He left, closing the door behind himself. Rick turned back to the injured man.

"Look, Norman, there is really nothing to be frightened about…"

"Did you pick up my bag?"

Rick was mystified why Norman would ask this now, but nodded.

"Sure, I did. Why?"

Later, Rick thought he should have seen right through the next bit of their conversation. But later, hindsight being what it is, he also understood why he hadn't, at the time.

Norman's eyes were now fully trained on him, and he appeared alert. His gaze fixed Rick with an intensity that Rick found slightly unsettling. It gave him a peculiar feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"Could you get it for me?"

Norman's uninjured left hand came up. He took Rick's right hand and held on, his gaze never wavering. Rick, feeling slightly dazed, tried to focus on a reason why he shouldn't fulfil this small request right away.

"Please."

The young man's voice was suddenly darker, more intimate than before, even on that one word. Rick nodded, almost against his will.

Norman's smile seemed to ignite a fire in Rick, and he was a little sorry when the other one let go of his hand. Rick could see a flicker of pain return to the blue eyes, but Norman quickly stifled it, smile never wavering.

"Thank you."

Rick turned and walked to the door, looking over his shoulder once. "I'll be right back."

On the way to the exit Rick contemplated the strangeness of what had just happened. He hurried to get the bag from the boot and headed back inside. As he entered the ER he realized with a jolt of foreboding that he'd been played. He quickened his step and hurried into Norman's room.

It was deserted.


	7. Chapter 7

His chest was hurting something awful. Every breath was a struggle as he limped along the gloomy passageway. There was nobody around in this part of the hospital so late at night. This wasn't the much busier county hospital, just the district facility, and not enough happened in their small town to keep it at capacity, ever. Even in the middle of winter during flu season the staff were only slightly busier than usual.

Norman knew there was an exit back here somewhere. He pulled his denim jacket around himself more closely. The jacket, and the vest with the angel wings stitched to the back, were the only items of clothing they hadn't cut off him in the ER. He'd started hitting anyone in reach when they'd tried. The thought of losing his jacket and vest, the only things he had to remember his real father by, was too awful. They'd finally understood his not quite coherent protests and his agitation and had pulled the jacket off him instead. When it brushed over his injured right shoulder Norman had blacked out again, but it was worth the pain.

They'd put his shoulder back into the socket and immobilized that arm in a sling before he'd quite come round again. While that now prevented him from putting the jacket on properly the injury was still sufficiently painful for Norman not to meddle with that arrangement.

When he'd fled the room as soon as that cop had left he'd been glad to discover that his shoes lay discarded in one corner as well. They were bloody and, he thought, covered in puke, but having to go outside in the middle in November with no shoes at all would have been worse.

From his one visit to this place when Merle had knocked himself on his ass and had needed stitches a few months ago while doped off his head Norman vaguely remembered there was a rear exit leading out to a car park. In his state it took him much longer than he'd imagined to find it again, and he was growing increasingly worried that Rick would raise the alarm before he could get clear of the place. When he finally spotted the glass doors leading outside the blood was pounding painfully through every fiber of his busted body.

Norman limped outside as fast as he could manage, one thought only on his mind: Get away before Rick could find him.

-.-

By the time he'd walked the half a mile to the nearest phone booth Norman was starting to wonder whether answering some questions from the police would have been so bad after all. His head was killing him now, and he could feel blood trickling from a wound near his hairline. He felt sick again, too, but while the gagging that overtook him every few minutes was nothing short of agony he brought up little more than a thin string of bile. Breathing increasingly hurt, and he could hardly put one foot in front of the other, he felt so tired.

There, finally, the phone booth. Leaning against it for a moment he rummaged clumsily in the pockets of his jacket with his left hand. Just about enough small change to make one call, but that was ok. There was only one call he could make now that held any promise of yielding results.

Praying the phone was still operational Norman yanked the door open. Just that small exertion nearly knocked him flat.

Dial tone, thank heavens. Norman inserted the coins, dialed the number and listened to the phone ringing at the other end for what felt like an eternity.

"Hello?"

"Glenn, 's that you? It's Norman…"

"Hey… um, you ok?"

"No, actually… I…"

"Hang on a sec…"

Rustling on the other end, tinny voices in the background. Then, "Ok, sorry. Had to close the kitchen door…"

"Glenn, listen. I'm… 'm not so good. Could you… could y'come an' get me?"

"Norman, what…? Man, sorry, you know what happened last time, what my folks said. If I ever see you again… they've just calmed the fuck down over it. Merle was… and, you know…"

"Yeah, I know. I jus'… 've nowhere t'…"

"Look man, I'm really sorry, but… I can't… You understand, right?"

Norman leaned his forehead against the body of the phone. The cold metal felt soothing against his burning skin.

"Yeah… yeah, sure do. Sorry I both'red you…"

Norman rang off, hearing Glenn say something else as he put down the receiver. He slumped against the side of the booth, panting. He'd been running on fumes ever since he'd gotten up from that hospital bed but now, he knew, he was really done. There was nowhere to go, and even if there had been, he wasn't sure he would make it anywhere in his state. He cradled his chest with his good arm. Even breathing hurt so much now he was starting to wonder why he even bothered.

Norman wasn't aware that he had company until a sharp rap against the glass right by his ear made him jump. He groaned with the fresh volley of pain from the sudden movement and doubled up. He was seeing stars and tried desperately to stay on his feet. The door behind him swung open.

"Hey buddy. You ok?"

The voice belonged to a stranger. Norman slowly and clumsily turned around, using the walls of the phone booth for support. He squinted in the glare of another set of headlights, trying to make out the man before him. He thought the man looked like a cop. Fear replaced all remnants of coherent thought in his fevered brain.

"'m fine. Jus' leavin'…"

He tried to push past the cop who held him back.

"Not so fast, man." He looked Norman up and down, and Norman tried to hide his bruised face. "Hey, you escape from somewhere? Y'don't look so good."

"Said 'm fine. Lemme go…"

"Nope, can't do that. You look like you belong in a hospital. Did you come from the one up the road? What happened? You had an accident?"

Why did these cops always have so many questions? Norman just wanted to get away. The cop's hand pushing against his chest was badly hurting his ribs and the car's headlights sent wave after wave of slicing pain through his head. He tried again to get away, but he hardly had the strength to stay on his feet and thus had no impact on the cop holding him easily with one hand. The cop was starting to lose patience.

"C'mon man. I'm not gonna hurt you. Let's just calm down, get you looked at and then we can have us a chat, ok? Careful now!"

He grabbed for Norman as he half staggered, half dodged past. His hand caught Norman's hurt shoulder and Norman yelled as pain exploded through him. He didn't know whether it was the pain or the panic at the thought of being interrogated by the police that made him lash out, but his left fist came up in a wide arc and connected hard with the other man's face.

The cop let go with a yell and Norman was momentarily free. He took a few, uncertain steps, hearing curses behind him. The blood was rushing noisily in his ears and he found it hard to focus his gaze on anything. A moment later strong hands seized him hard. Startled Norman pulled away again as strongly as he could

His balance being shot to hell Norman immediately stumbled, and fell. He landed hard on his injured side and had just time to wonder how things could have gone so wrong so thoroughly in the space of a few hours before he lost consciousness again.


	8. Chapter 8

He was pacing by the nurse's desk, waiting for the security guards to finish a second sweep of the hospital when his phone started buzzing in his pants pocket. It was Shane. Rick flicked the phone open.

"Shane, oh good. Listen, I was gonna call you anyway. I might need your help with…"

"Man, we got us, uh… a situation here…"

Rick listened to Shane for twenty seconds or so, then flicked his phone shut and made for the exit, past the startled security guard who was just returning from his search.

-.-

"What happened?" Rick stared at his partner who was dabbing at his swollen, bleeding lip with a handkerchief.

"Little fucker punched me in the mouth. Got me good, too."

Shane sounded annoyed, even angry. Rick was surprised at the venom. How much of a nuisance could Norman have made of himself, the state he was in?

"Little shit… puked all over the backseat too… Pretended to be unconscious when I pulled him out, nearly had to carry him in here…"

Rick wondered how rough Shane had been with Norman. His partner could be a little unreasonable when riled.

"Shane, I don't think he was pretending. He's badly hurt. He…" Rick stopped himself at the look on Shane's face. Instead he asked, "How come you phoned me?"

"He mentioned your name. Said you found him, helped him… What happened to him, Rick?"

"He got beat up outside the shop. I was just passing, scared them off, I suppose…" Rick tried to sound casual about it but wasn't sure he was succeeding.

"Just passing where? At this time? Hey…" Shane had clearly just connected the dots. "He's that guy from the coffee shop, isn't he? Thought he looked familiar. Hard to tell under those bruises. Man, they got him good…"

"Yeah, they did. Shane, where is he?"

Rick didn't care at all for the way his partner was looking at him, both amused and as if he was trying to puzzle something out.

"All right, keep your hair on... He's in the drunk tank."

"He's not in there with anyone, is he?" Rick felt suddenly deeply apprehensive. He was already moving towards the corridor leading to the back of the station and the detention cells. "He's in no condition to look out for himself…"

Shane was right behind him, keeping step. "I'm not an idiot, Rick. Course he's not in with anyone. What happened after you found him? Why was he wandering the streets like this?"

"He escaped. He didn't want to be at the hospital, and he didn't want to talk to the cops. Us, I mean… How come you brought him here, not back to ER? It's clear as day he needs medical attention."

They were approaching the holding cells now.

"He nearly punched my lights out when I suggested the hospital. Fought like I was threatening to take him to a torturing chamber. We can call him a doctor here in the morning."

Rick stopped outside the nearest cell, which they used for drunk and disorderly customers. It was nearly identical to the other cells, but unlike the others, which were completely bare, this one had low benches all around the walls. The benches were made of plastic, and there was a drain in the middle of the cell. Rick didn't like to count the number of times that had come in handy in the past, even in a small town like theirs.

He looked through the small window in the door, covered with reinforced glass. He could make out a form curled up on the bench in the corner furthest from the door. Norman's legs were drawn up under him as far as he could manage, as if trying to make himself as small as possible. His back was to the room and Rick couldn't tell whether he was asleep or awake.

"Give me the keys."

"Rick, what…"

"Keys, Shane."

Rick held out a hand and fixed his partner with an unblinking gaze. Shane exhaled theatrically but then handed the keys over.

"Thank you. I'll take it from here."

Rick continued to look at Shane and something in his gaze made the other man back off. Shane shrugged, then turned and walked back down the corridor, muttering to himself.

Rick slotted the key into the lock and let himself into the cell. As the heavy metal door clanged shut behind him Norman gave a shaky jerk, then groaned. He had evidently been asleep, and Rick was sorry to have startled him into a painful awakening. He sat down on the bench at an angle to Norman, careful not to crowd him too much.

"Norman, it's me, Rick. You ok?"

The injured man struggled to push himself up. Rick could see Norman was still wearing the sling on the right and didn't use that arm at all. He didn't offer any help, not after what had happened to Shane. He didn't think Norman would hit him, but he didn't want to cause any unnecessary stress, either. Norman finally managed to push himself into a half-sitting position. Rick was deeply worried by the pallor of his face and the wheezy sound of his breathing.

"Don' take me back t'th'hospital…"

Norman's voice was raspy and weak. No sign now of the seductive quality in him that had confused Rick into letting his long-practiced caution abandon him earlier. He simply looked and sounded exhausted. Rick considered him.

"I won't. God knows, that's where you belong, but if you don't want to go…"

A look of relief crossed Norman's face. He leaned his head against the wall and momentarily closed his eyes. When he opened them again he wouldn't look at Rick.

"'m sorry I punched… th'other cop. Didn' mean t'…"

Rick almost smiled. "Don't worry about it, he'll live. Anyway, I think he's more annoyed about the backseat of the car…"

Norman briefly gazed at him, misery etched on his face.

"Really… sorry…been such trouble…"

Rick was surprised at the dejectedness radiating off the younger man.

"Hey, it's not your fault you got assaulted."

Rick suppressed the urge to reach out and touch Norman's face. He was sure touch would bring no comfort right now. Instead he rubbed his own face.

"What are we gonna do with you though? You can't stay here…" Norman tensed at those words. Rick's heart felt heavy at the thought that the other one thought they were going to kick him back out into the street. He added hurriedly, "You need a proper night's sleep, in a proper bed. We can't even turn the lights off in here…"

Norman shifted uneasily. "I don' have… I mean…"

Rick, guessing what he was struggling to say, cut him off. "You can come home with me. My wife won't… I mean, we got a spare room. What d'you think?"

Norman looked at him, suspicion, disbelief and gratitude warring behind his eyes.

"Y'mean that?"

Rick smiled. "If I didn't I wouldn't have suggested it."


	9. Chapter 9

Lori was still in the living room, and Rick knew he was in trouble the moment he saw her sitting on the sofa. Her legs and arms were crossed so tightly he was sure he could hear her joints creak. She glared at him as he walked over and sat down opposite, never blinking. Rick had never known anyone who could stare you down as thoroughly as Lori.

He leaned back, legs spread wide, arms open. Show vulnerability, show you're no threat, sometimes they are less likely to attack you then. Rick generally remembered the lessons from his police training well.

"Look, Lori…"

He knew she'd held back just so she could interrupt him as soon as he spoke. It rankled, to play her game for now, but it would speed things up, it was getting late. She didn't disappoint.

"Have you got ANY idea how worried I was?!"

Truth be told, Rick did, but he knew his wife. Lori had to go through the script in her head in a certain order before he'd get a word in again. He stayed quiet.

"You could've AT LEAST answered the phone. And then you could have mentioned you were going to bring home a… a…"

Rick knew she was holding back from calling Norman a hobo, and he was gratified that she was being this considerate, despite everything. He tried for mea culpa next. Take the blame, and they could all go to bed.

"Lori, I'm sorry, I really am. Events just overtook me, I didn't mean to leave you in the dark…"

He wasn't sure how well he was succeeding. Lori still looked daggers at him.

"Really?! How convenient, _events got in the way_ , and it just HAPPENED to allow you to teach your wife a _lesson_!"

She spat the last word at him. Rick was worried Carl would wake up if Lori got any shriller. And what would Hershel think, overhearing their argument? Nobody in their circle knew about their difficulties, they all still thought of the Sherriff's Deputy and his beautiful wife as the perfect couple. Rick had to head her off.

"Please, Lori. I really had no choice. Norman, he has nobody. I couldn't just leave him…"

"Why not take him to the hospital? That's what they're there for, Rick."

He was praying Lori wouldn't take this line of enquiry to its natural, and sensible, logical conclusion.

"I tried. He ran away. Shane picked him up and put him in the drunk tank. Should I've just left him there?"

Judging by Lori's look she thought he should have done exactly that. Rick tried a different tack.

"Look, it's just for a few days, until he's recovered a bit. He really is badly hurt, Lori, I'm not exaggerating. I know it's a risk, having him here and not taking him to the hospital. But if I took him back I'm sure he'd not stay put. And who knows who'll find him next time. The thugs that did this to him are still at large…"

He stopped there and looked at his wife long and hard. Rick could tell she was softening now. Lori had a good heart, she was the one who kept bringing in stray kittens and injured birds and nursing them back to health. She wouldn't kick someone out when they were in danger of coming to more harm. Finally her legs and arms uncrossed.

"But he's a stranger, Rick. In our house…"

"He's in no condition to make trouble, promise. And he's not a total stranger. He works at that coffee shop you like…" Hoping to god she'd calmed down enough to be receptive to his next suggestion Rick got up. "I'm beat. Can we go to bed?"

Lori still looked reluctant, but then nodded and got up too. She came over to him when Rick held out his hand to her, and when she was within reach he pulled her close and kissed her hair. She nuzzled into him and placed a hand on the front of his jeans. Rick sighed inwardly. He really was exhausted, but he knew how much Lori liked making-up sex. At least this meant she was done yelling for the night.


	10. Chapter 10

Lori was still in the living room, and Rick knew he was in trouble the moment he saw her sitting on the sofa. Her legs and arms were crossed so tightly he was sure he could hear her joints creak. She glared at him as he walked over and sat down opposite, never blinking. Rick had never known anyone who could stare you down as thoroughly as Lori.

He leaned back, legs spread wide, arms open. Show vulnerability, show you're no threat, sometimes they are less likely to attack you then. Rick generally remembered the lessons from his police training well.

"Look, Lori…"

He knew she'd held back just so she could interrupt him as soon as he spoke. It rankled, to play her game for now, but it would speed things up, it was getting late. She didn't disappoint.

"Have you got ANY idea how worried I was?!"

Truth be told, Rick did, but he knew his wife. Lori had to go through the script in her head in a certain order before he'd get a word in again. He stayed quiet.

"You could've AT LEAST answered the phone. And then you could have mentioned you were going to bring home a… a…"

Rick knew she was holding back from calling Norman a hobo, and he was gratified that she was being this considerate, despite everything. He tried for mea culpa next. Take the blame, and they could all go to bed.

"Lori, I'm sorry, I really am. Events just overtook me, I didn't mean to leave you in the dark…"

He wasn't sure how well he was succeeding. Lori still looked daggers at him.

"Really?! How convenient, _events got in the way_ , and it just HAPPENED to allow you to teach your wife a _lesson_!"

She spat the last word at him. Rick was worried Carl would wake up if Lori got any shriller. And what would Hershel think, overhearing their argument? Nobody in their circle knew about their difficulties, they all still thought of the Sherriff's Deputy and his beautiful wife as the perfect couple. Rick had to head her off.

"Please, Lori. I really had no choice. Norman, he has nobody. I couldn't just leave him…"

"Why not take him to the hospital? That's what they're there for, Rick."

He was praying Lori wouldn't take this line of enquiry to its natural, and sensible, logical conclusion.

"I tried. He ran away. Shane picked him up and put him in the drunk tank. Should I've just left him there?"

Judging by Lori's look she thought he should have done exactly that. Rick tried a different tack.

"Look, it's just for a few days, until he's recovered a bit. He really is badly hurt, Lori, I'm not exaggerating. I know it's a risk, having him here and not taking him to the hospital. But if I took him back I'm sure he'd not stay put. And who knows who'll find him next time. The thugs that did this to him are still at large…"

He stopped there and looked at his wife long and hard. Rick could tell she was softening now. Lori had a good heart, she was the one who kept bringing in stray kittens and injured birds and nursing them back to health. She wouldn't kick someone out when they were in danger of coming to more harm. Finally her legs and arms uncrossed.

"But he's a stranger, Rick. In our house…"

"He's in no condition to make trouble, promise. And he's not a total stranger. He works at that coffee shop you like…" Hoping to god she'd calmed down enough to be receptive to his next suggestion Rick got up. "I'm beat. Can we go to bed?"

Lori still looked reluctant, but then nodded and got up too. She came over to him when Rick held out his hand to her, and when she was within reach he pulled her close and kissed her hair. She nuzzled into him and placed a hand on the front of his jeans. Rick sighed inwardly. He really was exhausted, but he knew how much Lori liked making-up sex. At least this meant she was done yelling for the night.


	11. Chapter 11

Rick didn't have a restful night. His sleep was disturbed by dreams of great crowds of shambling, moaning figures. Whenever he surfaced enough to know they were dreams he thought these figures were dead bodies, come back to life. He wondered what the dreams meant.

It was just getting light outside when Rick was woken more fully by something unfamiliar outside his and Lori's bedroom door. There was a sound of a door opening, then footsteps - halting, uneven - on the hardwood floor. Rick thought he knew what this meant and got up quickly. As he opened the bedroom door his hunch was confirmed. Norman was leaning against the banister just across from him, and he looked up as Rick stepped onto the landing. He seemed less pale and exhausted, but the bruises on his face were turning an array of unpleasant colors now, and his eyes still had the remnants of a feverish gleam to them.

"Looking for the bathroom?"

Norman nodded, and Rick stepped closer, holding out an arm.

"Hold on to me, makes it easier." He pointed to the nearest door past the staircase. "Just over there."

To his surprise Norman took his arm without comment. Rick mused that he must still be hurting badly not to balk at the offered help. With a jolt he realized they hadn't even thought about what to do about pain management for his injuries. Rick made a mental note to hit up some contacts and sort this out as soon as possible.

They'd finally covered the short distance to the bathroom and Rick opened the door.

"I'll wait, take you back to your room after."

"Ok."

While he paced the landing, waiting, Rick thought about what Hershel had said before he'd left the night before. Lori had gone up ahead while Rick shut down the house for the night. He'd just climbed the stairs and was about to enter the guest bedroom when Hershel had emerged.

"He's asleep now," he'd offered before Rick could ask. "Rick, that boy will need a long time to heal. Better prepare Lori if you're planning on keeping him here for the duration."

Rick hadn't mentioned this conversation to Lori. He had indeed every intention to keep Norman with them until he was fully healed and Rick was sure he had somewhere safe to go. He had not shared his plans with Lori, either. Just now she would not want to hear them. Give them all a few days to get used to each other, and Rick was sure it would sort itself out.

The bathroom door opened and Norman stepped through gingerly. He was cradling his ribs again, and the pallor had returned. Wordlessly Rick stepped up to the other man and put an arm around him before he himself quite knew what he was doing. Instead of pulling away Norman leaned into him with a shudder.

"You ok? Did you get any sleep?"

He could feel Norman nod against him. "A bit. But t'nightmares kept waking me up. Them guys, they… they came back, and back, and…"

Rick felt Norman's left hand grab the front of his t-shirt, felt his heart beating faster. He thought for a moment, almost unconsciously rubbing the injured man's back with one hand.

"Let's get you some breakfast. After yesterday you need energy. You can rest on the sofa, it's very comfortable. Lori likes them squishy."

Rick got them downstairs and helped Norman stretch out on one of the two sofas. The young man relaxed into the soft upholstery with a sigh. The trip down the stairs had winded him again. After a moment he looked up at Rick.

"Lori your wife?"

"Yeah."

"She's not happy, is she? About me being here, I mean." And seeing Rick's surprise he added, "I heard her yelling, last night."

"No, she's not so happy with me right now…" Rick could see that Norman wanted to say something else and headed him off. He didn't need to hear any more apologies. "Right, I'll make us breakfast. And you'll eat it, understood?"

Norman made a face but didn't say anything. Rick went into the kitchen and put on the coffee. He rummaged in the cupboards and finally pulled out a box. Then he put the kettle on, too.

"Cereal or toast?" he called towards the living room."

"Toast, if I have t'…"

"Yes, you do," Rick muttered to himself as he poured boiling water into a mug and put two slices of bread into the toaster. Then he picked up the mug and carried it over to the sofa. He put it on the coffee table to help Norman sit up a little, propping him up with a few more cushions from around the room. Then he handed the young man the mug.

Norman sniffed at it and made a face again.

"What is _that_?"

"Peppermint tea. Only other choice was chamomile."

Norman grimaced. "What happened to your coffee maker?"

"You're not drinking coffee until I'm sure this and the toast stays down. You might as well drink battery acid, your stomach would like that equally much after yesterday…"

Norman looked at him with a pained expression. "Haven' I been punished enough?"

Rick couldn't help grinning at the outrage in the other's voice. If he had enough energy to bitch about the beverage options he'd probably be ok.

"There's also cocoa, would you prefer that?"

The sound of disgust from the other man was so endearing Rick had to laugh out loud. He went back into the kitchen to get the toast.

"How do you want your toast? Peanut butter, jam, butter…"

"Just butter, thanks."

Rick brought their two plates and his mug of coffee into the living room and sat on the other sofa. There was silence while they ate their toast. Norman only nibbled on his but Rick thought it was a start.

"I'll make some calls soon, see if I can't get you some painkillers. Bet your jaw's sore too, huh?"

Norman nodded as he put the toast down. "Bit, yeah."

He tried to reach over and put the plate on the coffee table, but couldn't quite reach it. Rick saw a crease of discomfort flitting across his face again.

"Just put it on the floor."

Norman glanced at Rick, then did as he was told and leaned back. He looked around the room.

"Nice place. Very tidy."

"Thanks. Yeah, Lori likes it neat."

Norman's smile made Rick's heart beat a bit faster. "Bet you do, too…"

Rick smiled back. "Yeah, I suppose I do."

The other man's eyes alighted on the painting over the fireplace. It showed a field full of Cherokee roses in bloom.

"That's real nice. It's an original?"

"Uhu. The artist is a friend. His name's Dale."

Norman's eyes suddenly clouded over and he turned his face away. Rick leaned forward, feeling tension building in the pit of his stomach.

"You ok? Something hurting? You feeling sick?"

Norman shook his head, still looking anywhere but at Rick. "'m fine. 's jus', this place… and wha's happened… and you've been so nice, and I dunno even…"

His voice sounded so sad, Rick's heart went out to the young man again. Norman took a deep, shuddering breath, then looked at Rick.

"Thanks, man. I mean it…"

A single tear rolled down from the corner of his eye and Norman wiped it hastily away with the hand not bound up in the sling.

Rick didn't know what to do or say. He wanted to take the other man in his arms, just hold him and tell him things would be ok. He had no idea what reaction that would cause, so he didn't do or say anything for a couple of minutes. Finally, when the silence became too uncomfortable, he cleared his throat.

"Norman, the men who attacked you… what were they after?"

He knew immediately it was the wrong thing to say. A shutter seemed to come down behind Norman's blue eyes which had one moment been trained on Rick with true affection. He seemed to shrink further into the cushions, drawing his legs up and curling in upon himself. Rick was surprised to hear him say anything at all. Norman's voice was suddenly rough but hardly more than a whisper.

"Dunno… money, maybe?"

Rick could tell he was lying. Norman knew, or at least suspected, more than he was letting on. But seeing the other man so miserable again nearly broke his heart, so Rick decided to let the matter rest, for now.

"Never mind. The important thing is that we make sure you get better."

Rick stood up and went over to the other sofa. He stood very still and looked down at Norman until the younger man finally looked up at him. Rick smiled then, trying to dispel the miserable air around them. After a moment he could see a tentative smile in response. Rick crouched down. He'd meant to only pick up the plate from where it sat on the floor, but then he stopped and looked at Norman again. The other man's gaze was steady on him again. Rick lowered his voice as he spoke.

"You're safe here, man. You can stay as long as you need to. As long as you want… Understood?"

Norman's nod was hesitant. "What about your wife?"

Rick smiled. "I've seen your charm in action. Try some of that on her, see if she doesn't completely fall for you before the day's out."


	12. Chapter 12

At first he didn't know what had woken him. He kept his eyes shut for a moment longer, trying to recall the events that had led to him lying on this immensely comfortable sofa. When he finally squinted into the daylight his gaze was met by a pair of gray-blue eyes belonging to a boy of around ten. Norman guessed that this must be Rick's son, even though no children had been mentioned as far as he could recall. He tried a smile, then cleared his throat before trying to speak.

"Hey."

The boy didn't smile back. "Who are you?"

"I'm Norman. What's your name?"

"Carl." Then, as if unable to restrain himself any longer, the boy blurted out, "What happened to your face?"

Norman shifted himself onto the other side gingerly and winced. Every movement still felt as if something in his chest was tearing loose. His head was fuzzy too, and he wouldn't have minded just going back to sleep. Instead he forced another smile, making it as genuine as he could. The last thing he wanted was to scare the kid.

"I got into a fight. You should see the other guy."

Carl looked puzzled for a moment, but then, probably realizing Norman was joking, grinned slowly.

"Carl!"

The loud voice from behind startled Norman and he flinched. A sharp pain shot through him and he groaned, closing his eyes. When he opened them again he could see Carl looking at someone he couldn't see from his vantage point. He didn't need to see her, though, to know that it could only be Lori. And judging by Carl's expression she wasn't in a much better mood than the night before. Norman kept quiet, waiting for things to unfold. He mentally steeled himself to deal with the suspicious wife. He'd had some experience in that area and knew Rick had been right. He should have no trouble winning Lori over.

"Go tidy your room, Carl."

"But mom…"

"Now, or you'll have no desert for a week!"

Norman couldn't help but grin at the outrage on the boy's face. Carl glanced at him and he winked and rolled his eyes. It hurt his face but he was rewarded with a small grin from the boy. Make allies wherever you can, Norman thought, feeling satisfied.

Carl stomped off the moment his mother came into view. She looked after her son for a moment with a frown on her face, then started straightening things that didn't need straightening and fussing unnecessarily with the cushions on the other sofa and the armchairs. She wouldn't look at Norman. He watched her, keeping his face neutral. Eventually, when she gave no indication that she would be leaving any time soon, and he decided it would be rude to go back to sleep as if she wasn't there, he thought he better say something.

"Thank you for letting me stay."

Norman kept his voice low, forced himself to keep looking at Lori, certain she kept him in her view from the corner of her eye, even though she still wouldn't look directly at him.

"I know what a nuisance I'm being, and I 'preciate what you're doin'. I get it. I'd be scared if a stranger came to my house, all beat up…"

Lori gave no sign that she'd even heard him, so Norman decided to just carry on talking until he got a reaction. It was the most he'd talked outside work in a long time, but it was important.

"You have a beautiful house. I love that picture…" He gestured at the painting of the Cherokee roses. "Rick told me you know the artist… Your boy, Carl? He seems like a great kid."

Norman paused. He knew few mothers could resist responding to a compliment about their children. He wasn't disappointed. Lori still didn't look up from where she was tidying the coffee table now, but a small smile appeared around her mouth as if against her will.

"He is, yes…"

Norman pressed his advantage. "I think I remember you. You come into the café I work at sometimes, after the school run. Skinny soya cappuccino to go…"

Now Lori looked up, and Norman gave her his most winning smile. He knew it was his best feature, but he wasn't sure how well it'd work now, with his face covered in bruises. He carried on talking.

"And when you come in with that pretty blond friend of yours it's a flat white."

Lori stopped fussing and straightened up. She looked a little impressed despite herself.

"Do you remember all of your customers' orders that well?"

"Only if they catch my eye." He smiled again, looking her up and down. Another thing few women could resist was him paying proper attention to them, married or not. "And I remember something else. A few weeks ago your friend forgot her scarf, and you came back for it the next day. I overheard you saying you'd been driving around all morning, going everywhere you'd been together the day before because it was her favorite…"

Norman made sure to look her directly in the eyes before continuing. "You were so happy when we found the scarf. I thought that was nice, how you cared so much about making your friend happy…"

He knew he had her then. Lori's expression changed completely, her eyes softened and she smiled.

"I have to say, I'm impressed." She smiled, hesitated, then gestured at the kitchen. "Can I get you anything?"

"No, thanks, I'm good."

Lori looked more closely at him. "You don't look it, though. You feel ok?"

The truth was Norman was feeling pretty awful again. His head was pounding and the nausea threatened just off-stage. All that talking had made him so tired he could hardly keep his eyes open.

"'m fine, jus' tired…"

Lori nodded, looking quite concerned. "Go back to sleep. I'm sorry Carl disturbed you."

"Don't be." The smile he forced cost him all his willpower now. "It was nice t'talk to you both…"

She started walking away. "Rick's gonna be back soon, he's getting you something for the pain. I'll be upstairs. Call if you need anything."

Norman looked at her as steadily as he could manage.

"Thanks Lori. I will."


	13. Chapter 13

Rick returned to a peaceful house. Norman was asleep on the sofa just as he'd left him, but after encountering Lori upstairs Rick was certain that the injured man must have been awake at some point. His wife was calmer and sweeter than she had been in weeks. Rick didn't say anything, just savored the peace.

When Norman woke up in the early afternoon Rick took the opportunity to get some painkillers into him, and some food. Norman complied without fuss and actually ate most of the soup Lori heated up for him. Rick was amazed to watch them interact. There was no more hostility in Lori, and glancing at Norman every so often Rick wasn't at all surprised. He now understood his own fascination with the young man. The mix of sweet and seductive in his demeanor would win over almost anyone. And Norman clearly knew how to work this to his advantage. Rick smiled to himself. Good for him!

Dinner was also more relaxed than most meals Rick had recently taken with his family. He'd half hoped Norman would be able to sit up with them at the table, but after helping the younger man to the bathroom a few times during the afternoon he gave up on that idea. Being upright for even a few minutes was still exhausting and painful for him, and Rick's guilty conscience flared up again every time he looked into the pale face during their short trips and seeing the discomfort that moving around caused Norman despite the painkillers.

So Norman had a few bites of his dinner propped up on the cushions again, took another dose of meds and then dozed lightly while Rick, Lori and Carl sat at the dining table close by. Rick could tell that Carl was endlessly fascinated with their guest, and when he brought him his plate Rick caught Norman winking and making faces at his son that made Carl giggle. Clearly these two had bonded as well. Norman caught Rick looking and winked at him, too, with an entirely different emphasis that gave Rick a warm sensation in his chest and made him lose track of the conversation with Lori.

After dinner Lori took herself and Carl off to bed, and Rick wasn't surprised. The night before had been an extremely late one and he was hopeful himself that they could wrap this one up earlier. He took a mug of decaf coffee into the living room after clearing the table and sat down opposite Norman, who was awake now and regarded him with an uncertain look. The young man seemed to have something on his mind but appeared unable to find the right words. Rick raised an eyebrow at him.

"What is it, man? Spit it out, can't be that bad…"

"D'you… would you help me take a bath? It's just… I feel disgusting. And 'm so sore, t'hot water would be nice… I don't think I can stand up in t'shower yet… but if you help me…"

He sounded so unsure and tentative it gave Rick a stab to the heart. He put his mug down.

"Course I'll help you. All you had to do was ask… You got some clean clothes in that bag? Else I'll lend you some…"

Norman nodded, but indicated the coffee. "You finish that, there's no rush."

But Rick shook his head. "Nah. I've had enough coffee for one day, and I'll be glad to see my bed tonight, I can tell you that..."

So Rick went upstairs to run a bath. Then he came back down and helped Norman climb the stairs again. He noticed that while the going was still slow and Norman's injured knee hurt him and was stiff despite the painkillers the younger man no longer radiated heat like a furnace and didn't flag as badly with the smallest exertion.

When they got up onto the second floor landing and stopped for Norman to catch his breath the younger man looked at Rick almost shyly.

"D'you mind helping me get this off?" He indicated the sling that was still holding his right shoulder immobile. "'m not sure I even know how it's wrapped round me…"

Rick, who had had no intention of leaving Norman to fend for himself, nodded emphatically. "Sure I will. C'mon."

He parked Norman on the closed lid of the toilet and carefully removed the sling. Norman hissed as he lowered the injured arm for the first time in over a day and looked suddenly paper pale again. He swayed alarmingly and Rick caught him just before he could lose his balance completely. Norman clung to him, shaking. After a minute or so Rick looked down.

"You ok? I thought you were gonna pass out there for a moment…"

Norman nodded. "So did I. That hurt… 'm ok now though…"

Rick let go, watching carefully for any new indication of pain or another dizzy spell. When Norman looked at him and smiled Rick felt reassured and continued with the task at hand. Norman was still wearing the hospital gown, which was easy enough to remove. When it fell away, however, Rick was the one who felt like fainting. He surreptitiously let himself sink down onto the edge of the bathtub as he took in the damage to Norman's upper body with a feeling of horror creeping through the pit of his stomach.

The young man's chest and belly were an almost unbroken array of bruises and scrapes in colors that defied definition. No part of his skin looked totally intact or untouched. The right shoulder was swollen and a deep and angry purple, and Norman was now holding on to that arm gingerly with the left.

Rick could see bruises snake round the other's sides and was sure his back would look equally bad. He felt a powerful sense of pity and guilt for taking so long to get Norman the painkillers he clearly needed badly. Rick also thought again that anyone with that kind of injuries belonged in hospital. He guessed that any internal damage would have become apparent by now, but he turned cold at the thought of what would have happened if there had indeed been a serious internal bleed or a brain injury.

Norman saw Rick looking him over and lowered his head. Without thinking Rick reached over and took the other's chin. Norman's eyes locked with his, surprised.

"Don't look, it's bad. You'll just feel like fainting again. Trust me."

Norman's gaze on him was so gentle it felt almost like a caress. Rick's heart gave a flutter as the other man smiled.

"I do trust you."

He didn't try to look at himself again. Rick helped him take off his boxer shorts, then supported him as he climbed into the tub. Rick's heart ached with every new bruise he spotted and every time he felt Norman wince or shudder in his arms as he attempted to get into the water.

Finally he lay stretched out in the tub. Looking down at him and seeing how pale he'd turned again Rick couldn't help but doubt the advisability of going to all this trouble with the bath. But the warm water seemed to be doing Norman's aching body good, and he looked more relaxed with every breath.

"Sponges and wash cloths on the left there. I'll go and get some clothes from your bag, that ok?"

Norman nodded, and regarded Rick with sleepy, unfocused eyes. The painkillers seemed to be having the desired effect at last.

"Hmm, ok… thanks…"

When Rick returned and Norman hadn't moved, just floated in the warm water with his eyes half closed, Rick had to smile. He realized that when Norman had asked for help with bathing he'd meant it literally. Rick didn't mind in the slightest.

"C'mon then, buddy, let's get you clean and back to bed…"

Rick washed Norman's hair and carefully let water run down his bruised back, washing off sweat and dried blood. Helping Norman didn't feel very different from bathing Carl when he'd still been small enough to need help, at least until Norman looked round at him when Rick was gently wiping the foam off his shoulders. The young man had smiled softly, regarding Rick from under half-lidded eyes.

"Feels nice…"

His voice was darker somehow, sultry. Rick felt his heartbeat speed up a notch and shifted slightly as his jeans suddenly seemed uncomfortably tight. He thought the smirk on Norman's face was all too knowing, and he could have sworn that the other's eyes lingered a moment too long on the front of his pants. Rick cleared his throat.

"Let's get you outta here before the water's too cold…"

Norman seemed fully under the influence of the painkillers now. Rick was glad that he seemed to be in little or no pain, but it made getting him out of the tub, then dried off and dressed a bit of a challenge. It also meant that Norman was all hands, and he clung to Rick in a way that Rick was certain had nothing to do with needing to support himself for balance. As they went through the process of getting Norman into a fresh pair of boxers and a t-shirt Rick found that he minded the physical contact less and less.

Eventually they made it back to the guest bedroom. Rick lowered Norman gently onto the bed, meaning to get him horizontal quickly and with the least discomfort. Norman had a different agenda however, and held on tightly so that Rick had no choice but to sit down on the bed with him. He looked at Norman and felt a curious mix of amusement, affection and arousal.

There was no question in Rick's mind now that he felt attracted to the dark-haired, blue-eyed young man, and he was convinced that the feelings were mutual. What this meant, and where it could possibly lead, Rick would rather not think about just that moment.

Norman didn't look at him, instead his eyes wandered down. He disentangled himself from Rick, but stayed so close that Rick could still feel the other's heart beating against his chest. Norman reached for Rick's right hand with his left and slowly intertwined their fingers. Then he raised his head, but when Rick looked up he saw that the other man's eyes were closed. He brought his face very close to Rick, inhaling deeply.

"You smell nice."

Norman's voice was still dark and low, and Rick felt his body reacting to it and the other man's proximity without having any control.

"Think it's you who smells nice…"

Rick's voice was low as well, and he was aware that he didn't really know what he was saying. Norman's head came to rest against his shoulder, and Rick could feel his slightly wet hair tickle his neck. That Norman smelled of Lori's favorite bubble bath did not help his concentration. Rick felt Norman shake his head.

"No, 's you. You smell of you…"

Rick's left hand came up almost of its own volition and alighted on Norman's neck, drawing small circles on the damp skin. Norman relaxed into the touch and sighed. His left hand let go of Rick's then, and a moment later Rick could feel it on the front of his pants.

This was the moment for his decision, he knew. Rick could head it all off now, just pull away, tell Norman thanks, but no thanks. That'd be the end of it, no hard feelings, no harm done. Rick stayed quiet.

Norman's head came off his shoulder and finally the young man looked at him. Rick looked back, letting himself sink into the moment. Norman's eyes were bright, slightly unfocused, and Rick knew that some of the lack of inhibition was down to the painkillers. But he also knew that Norman was absolutely aware of everything he was doing, and that the passion in those eyes was genuine.

And Rick made his decision. He leaned in and kissed Norman gently, taking his time, getting the message across. Norman's hand tightened on his crotch and Rick tilted his hips towards the touch. They kissed for a long time, and it was sweet and unhurried, yet anything but chaste. They both knew what it meant, but Rick also knew what would be the right thing to do for the moment. He pulled away and took Norman's hand. He saw a flicker of uncertainty on the other's face, but before Norman even had the chance to misunderstand Rick headed him off.

"I want this so, so much. But you are still hurting, and even with the painkillers it wouldn't be very nice for you. Or for me. I'd worry all the time that I'm hurting you more… And Lori is asleep next door, and so is my son. If I did anything here and now I'd feel so guilty…"

Norman let go of Rick's hand and brought a finger up to his lips instead. He looked at him with so much gentleness Rick felt his chest grow warm.

"I get it, man. We'll wait."

He let his hand drop and kissed Rick briefly and tenderly. Then he shifted himself on the bed until he could stretch out fully. Rick helped him settle down under the covers. When the crease of discomfort caused by the awkward movement was disappearing from his face Rick reached out and smoothed some strands of hair off his face. Norman smiled at him, looking sleepy now.

"Thanks, man, for everything. And…" He put his good hand against Rick's chest briefly, "I can't wait, for us…"

Rick stroked the other's hand briefly with his thumb, then stood up. He walked over to the door and placed a hand on the doorknob, looking back at Norman and smiling.

"Me either…"


	14. Chapter 14

"Hello?"

"Hey, darlin'…"

"Oh… hey… I didn't see your number on the display…"

"'m callin' from the back of the station. Left my phone in the car. Thought I check in quick while nobody wants me."

"Oh…"

"We still good for noon?"

"Um… I can't, not today. Something's sorta come up…"

"That boy, huh? He still there?"

"Yeah… Listen, I think we better give it a few days. He'd notice if I go out for a long time, even if I give an excuse. He might mention it to Rick…"

"Yeah… yeah, that's cool. But Lori, were you actually gonna tell me, if I hadn't called?"

"Shane, I'm sorry… it's all been so weird…"

"No, I get it, I get it. But Thursday's still good, right? Rick knows you got your book club…"

"Yeah… sure, Thursday night's fine. I gotta go now…"

"Right. See ya Thursday, then. Love ya…"

"Me too…"

Lori rang off and looked at the phone in her hand for a moment, contemplating. She felt uneasy. How would their unexpected guest interfere with this arrangement? At last she turned around, still deep in thought.

Norman was standing at the foot of the stairs, looking at her. Lori nearly jumped out of her skin, heart hammering wildly.

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you…"

Did he look at her strangely? Lori was breathing hard, shaking. She forced herself to look at him more closely. No, he just looked tired and pale, just as he had the day before. He was clutching the railing hard with one hand, the other was curled protectively around his ribs. Lori noted how white the knuckles were on the hand that was holding on to the railing.

"'s all right. Norman, are you ok?"

He looked at her and she thought she could see a plea for help in his eyes, even though he stayed quiet. Lori went over and extended her hands towards him, but he hesitated.

"Shouldn't you be in bed?"

He lowered his eyes, but she could see a flash of fear in them for a split second.

"Nightmares… Can I stay down here, maybe? On t'sofa? That was all right yesterday, t'sleep… only if it's no bother though…"

"Of course it's no bother! Come on… you can lean on me. Let's get you settled, you look like you're about to fall over…"

Norman came to her and she could feel him shaking. He was trying to hide from her just how much he was still hurting, but she could tell he couldn't quite manage. Lori got him onto the sofa and watched his color return slowly. There was still a crease on his brow but he smiled at her.

"Thanks… that was harder than I thought…"

"Just don't creep around on your own. Call me if you need to get up to use the bathroom, ok?"

He nodded. When his eyes met hers Lori suddenly felt like he was looking right into her soul. Maybe he had heard her, after all… She stepped quickly away, averting her eyes.

"Do you want coffee? I was just about to make some."

"Yeah, thanks… You don't know where Rick put the painkillers, do you? I thought he left some upstairs, but I couldn't see them…"

"There's some here, hang on."

She brought him the pill bottle from the kitchen counter and a glass of water. Norman swallowed a couple and looked at her, gratitude written all over his face.

"Thanks…"

"No problem."

Even though his smile was melting her heart Lori felt conflicted. The coffee maker beeped and she returned to the kitchen quickly, glad about the distraction. What had he heard? Was it safe for her to meet Shane while Norman stayed with them? She'd have to see…

Lori poured them both a mug of coffee and put some home-made cookies on a plate. She felt rattled. He shouldn't even care about what she said one the phone in her own house… She couldn't hang around, his gaze on her was too unsettling. She'd bring him the coffee and the cookies, and then she'd make her excuses and hide upstairs…

No such evasive action was necessary. When Lori returned to the living room Norman had fallen asleep. She placed the mug and plate gently on the coffee table, then left the room on tiptoes and snuck up the stairs.


	15. Chapter 15

He wasn't really asleep, only pretending so she'd leave him alone to think. He needed time to digest what he'd overheard.

Lori was having an affair, Norman was certain of it. He'd heard all of her side of the conversation as he'd crept down the stairs without making a sound. That had been what had exhausted him again. He'd had to move extra slowly to keep his steps level, and simply standing around on the staircase had been more exhausting that he could have ever imagined.

And if what he'd heard hadn't been enough already, her behavior once she'd spotted him had told him all he needed to know.

The question was, what to do about it? Should he tell Rick? His first thought had been, yes, absolutely. That way he could be there for Rick, support him through the trauma and reap the benefits. But what if Rick wouldn't want that, repaying Lori for what she'd done with an affair of his own? What if he decided he had to try and mend things? Or that he should concentrate solely on helping his son cope with the situation? What if there would be no room in Rick's life for Norman for the foreseeable future? Or maybe ever?

Norman mulled it all over until his head started hurting. He reached for the coffee Lori had left on the table absent-mindedly and took a sip. This would need careful handling. He knew how close he was to winning Rick for himself. Maybe this situation could turn a casual fling into a future together? Maybe, but Norman knew he'd have to approach this carefully, or risk ruining a good thing before he even had it in his grasp.


	16. Chapter 16

"Weird call, man. Guy says his neighbor's out in the street, ranting, good as naked. Probably out of his head on something… says his brother stole his bike, leaving all the windows open for the robbers to get in. Threatening anyone who gets too close."

"Sounds like a fun one, Shane. Let's go check it out."

When Rick and Shane pulled up outside the dilapidated clapboard house they found the situation much like described. A guy wearing nothing but a ratty pair of boxer shorts was striding back and forth on the lawn, gesticulating wildly while talking to himself. A small group of onlookers hovered nervously on the other side of the road. Rick looked at his partner.

"Careful, man, all right?"

Shane nodded, loosening his revolver in its holster before opening the door.

"Let's do this."

Surprisingly, it didn't take much to calm the guy down. Once they got through to him and told him they were cops he seemed more than keen to talk to them, and even invited them inside.

Rick looked around the dismal living room with detached pity. This was clearly a life gone off the rails. The few pieces of furniture were damaged and dirty, and there was trash everywhere. The house spoke clearly of an occupant who was way down the spiral of drugs and alcohol. Incongruously, the room held several shelves crammed with books, and not all of them cheap paperbacks either. A thick layer of dust told Rick that the books hadn't been touched in months.

A look at the man who lived here told Rick the rest of his story. He was probably in his late forties but looked older. His face was unshaven, and his body had the typical gauntness of the heavy drug user.

"What seems to be the problem, sir?"

Shane pulled his notepad out, his voice barely betraying the disgust Rick knew he felt at the sight of this life gone wrong. Shane was not a patient man when it came to human frailty.

"'s me brother. Lil shit stole m'bike. An' he left all dem windows open, now's any fucker can com'in 'n steal m'stuff…"

Rick looked around. There was nothing left in this room any burglar would be interested in. He couldn't see any electronics whatsoever, not even a TV. Anything of value had probably been pawned off a long time ago to feed this guy's drug habit.

"And you're sure it was your brother stole your bike, Mr…?"

"Dixon. Call m'Merle… Course m'sure. Nobody else got keys to t'garage. Asshole…"

"Where is your brother, sir?"

"I don't know, do I?"

"When did you see him last?"

"About a week ago? I threw'm out on his ass, didn't I?"

"Why's that, sir?"

"Lil pervert brought his boyfriend here to fuck, didn't he? Faggot…"

Rick was getting an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. He fixed Merle with his best cop stare.

"What's your brother's name, sir?"

"Half-brother, he is. Jus' as useless as his piece of shit father… Me mother, she was a whore, see? Jus' like her useless bastard son…"

Merle peered at Rick, his eyes out of focus, swaying on the spot. Rick suddenly felt a powerful sense of distaste for the man, quite unlike himself. He was proud of his ability to leave personal feelings aside while at work. Shane looked at him sideways, then tried to attract Merle's attention again. Maybe Shane could see how close Rick was to losing his temper.

"Merle, what's your brother's name?"

"Norman, isn't it? Norman Reedus."


	17. Chapter 17

Rick didn't get home until late that night. Lori told him that Norman, after a peaceful day on the sofa, had just returned to his room with her help. Rick decided not to talk to him until the morning, loath to raise any kind of distressing subject likely to disturb both their sleep.

And Rick was disturbed all right. He mulled over what he and Shane had learned that day, about Norman and his life. After Merle's confirmation that Norman was his brother (or half-brother, as if that made a difference to anything) Rick had looked at the dismal house again with a growing sense of despair. He'd made Merle show him Norman's room, ostensibly to check on the windows Merle had insisted had been left open there and elsewhere in the house. Shane had given him an odd look, but Rick didn't care.

Norman's bedroom had been, if possible, in an even worse state. Rick guessed that Merle had torn it all apart after he'd thrown Norman out, looking for any valuables. Clothes and bedding lay everywhere and anything that could be sold had been taken away. Cables were still dangling from the wall where a computer must have been.

Ever since spending time in that excuse for a home Rick had been feeling increasingly sad for the life the young man had led so far. He'd had an idea that his background was far from ideal, but this was worse than his worst imagination. Rick had also been disquieted by what Merle had said about kicking Norman out when he'd caught him with another man. Rick wanted nothing so much as go right into Norman's room, take him into his arms and tell him that he'd make sure Norman would never have to return to a life like this.

He did no such thing. Instead he went to bed, both dreading and anticipating the conversation he knew he'd have to have with Norman next day.

-.-

Rick rose later than usual next morning since it was his day off. On these days Lori usually got up before him, fixing them breakfast which they would have together before one of them would drop Carl off at school. More often than not, if Rick was home on a weekday, it would be him doing the school run, but this day they had different plans. Lori would take Carl, just as she usually did, and then drive on to her elderly parents who lived about sixty miles away. She tried seeing them once a month, usually on a day when Rick could look after Carl in the afternoon.

They both used to have regrets about this arrangement because it cost them time that they could have otherwise spent together. Over the last few months, however, Rick had been secretly relieved about the existing arrangement, and he suspected Lori was, too. At least if they weren't under the same roof they couldn't fight.

When he came downstairs Rick was surprised to find Carl in the entrance hall already, pulling on his shoes.

"Hey, buddy. You already leaving? Did I oversleep that much?"

He tousled his son's hair, and Carl looked up grumpily.

"No. Mum just wants us to leave extra early today."

"Why's that?"

Carl's sigh made Rick smile. Kids. They had a way of sounding like the weight of the entire world rested on their shoulders that was truly endearing.

"I don't know." He got up from the floor and started pulling on his jacket. "Ask her…"

"Ask me what?"

Lori was walking towards them through the living room. She was looking for something in her bag and didn't look up.

"Ask you why you're leaving early. Did I miss something?"

"Keys… keys… ah! What?"

"Why are you going so early?" Rick repeated.

"Did I not mention last night?" Lori looked at him distractedly. "I want the mechanic to take a look at the car. Something's come loose under the hood, I think… weird sounds. You got your stuff?"

The last bit was addressed to Carl who nodded, looking if possible even grumpier.

"Good, let's go. Rick, you pick him up at four?"

Not even waiting for an answer Lori ushered their son through the door and it slammed shut behind them. Rick stared at the wood paneling for a moment, feeling bemused. Why the rush? They'd stopped kissing each other hello and goodbye a while ago, but even for Lori this was a cold way of leaving. Rick couldn't deny that he missed what they used to have.

Then he turned to go into the kitchen for coffee. Rick had only taken a step or two when he heard halting footsteps above. A moment later Norman appeared at the top of the stairs. Rick couldn't help his heart taking a small leap as he caught sight of the other man.

"Morning… want a hand?"

Rick thought Norman looked hesitant, but then he nodded. Rick climbed the stairs again and put an arm around the other man. He could tell right away that walking was easier for Norman today. He didn't lean on Rick so heavily and the injured knee was able to take more of his weight.

"'m pretty ok walking on m'own, I guess," Norman said. Then he looked Rick in the eyes and smiled. "'s nice though, y'helpin' me…"

They'd reached the bottom of the stairs and Norman stopped. Rick was worried again for a moment, but Norman really didn't look like he was in any pain. He stepped really close until their bodies were touching. Not breaking eye contact Norman leaned in and kissed Rick. After a moment of hesitation Rick returned the kiss. He could feel his body reacting to the other man's proximity and his evident arousal. He placed his hand lightly against Norman's cheek.

When they broke apart after what felt like an eternity Rick looked at Norman with wonder. He couldn't remember when he'd last had feelings like this for another person. His fingers traced the bruises still discoloring the other man's face. His thumb brushed Norman's lips. Never breaking eye contact Norman opened his mouth and close his lips slowly around Rick's thumb. The odd gesture was so arousing Rick could feel his pants getting tight. It seemed suddenly impossible to resist the urge to kiss Norman again, so Rick gave in and claimed the other's lips hungrily.

Norman responded in kind at first, but suddenly broke away with a small hiss. His arm came round his middle again and he closed his eyes, swaying slightly on the spot.

"You ok?"

Rick felt a stab of worry. What were they doing? Norman was hardly well enough to walk, they should take it slow. He put his arm more firmly around the other man again. Norman wouldn't meet his eye.

"Jus' a bit sore still…"

"C'mon, let's get you off your feet."

Rick led Norman over to the sofa. He could feel the injured man lean on him more heavily and berated himself for underestimating just how much healing there still was to do. When Norman was finally lying down Rick straightened up and looked at the convalescent. The other's face was pale again, but the color was slowly starting to return.

"Coffee and painkillers?"

Norman grinned up at him. "You read my mind…"

"And breakfast," Rick added as he walked towards the kitchen. "Toast?"

"Yeah, thanks…"

Rick fixed them both a plate while the coffee boiled and then took everything through to the living room. Norman pushed himself into a sitting position with some difficulty, but when Rick looked over questioningly he waved him off.

"'s ok. I can managed. Been lying down for long enough, really…"

Rick settled on the other sofa, for now resisting the urge to sit with Norman. He didn't think he'd be able to control himself if they were that close together, and he had a few things to say first.

"I met your brother yesterday."

Rick kept his eyes carefully trained on the other's face. He wasn't surprised by the change that came over Norman. It was like shutters coming down behind his eyes. His expression went from relaxed and open to withdrawn and very still. Norman put down his toast. For a moment he didn't say anything. Then, "How d'you know it was m'brother?"

Rick noticed the change of tone immediately. Norman sounded almost hostile.

"He mentioned you."

"Did he?"

"Yeah… I'm really sorry, man. He let us into the house, I saw how he lives, how you lived with him… It made me sad, and angry…"

"Yeah, well, that's over, isn't it? He won' ever take m'back, thank fuck…"

Norman's voice caught in his throat and Rick was surprised how dejected he sounded. Of course, being rejected by your family, even if it was family like this, was a traumatic experience. Rick got up and put his plate on the coffee table. He crossed the room and sat down on the sofa next to the younger man. He looked down. Norman had curled in on himself, shoulders hunched, face averted. Rick reached out a hand, and at first he thought the other would flinch away. But then Norman came to him with a sob.

"Hey, hey…"

Rick caught Norman's plate with the leftover toast before it could hit the floor and sat it on the table as well. Then he wrapped his arms around the young man and pulled him close. Norman's forehead came to rest against his shoulder and Rick was surprised by how hard the other was shaking.

He held Norman for a long time while he cried almost silently. Norman clung to Rick like he was drowning and Rick could feel the storm of pent-up misery breaking its bond at last. Living with a homophobic, unstable drug addict like Merle must have been hell, and the last few days were the final straw that had brought this crisis to a head.

Finally Norman seemed to be calming down. Rick kept his arms around him, kept stroking his back gently, and noticed that he'd started to rock them both a little, too. Norman pulled away but merely shifted himself around until he was leaning into Rick's chest, clearly exhausted. Rick saw hopelessness in the other's eyes when he looked down.

"You wanna talk about it?"

Rick kept his voice gentle. He intertwined his right hand with Norman's left, and the other man gave a small shudder against him.

"Not much t'say. Merle's a bully, always been… He kicked me out for… for…"

"For bringing someone home, a guy. Yeah, he mentioned that. You don't ever need to go back there, even if he'd let you…"

"I don't think it's gonna be that easy… his mates, they're vicious. I think he sent them to find me and… and…"

A suspicion began to form in Rick's mind. He lightly touched Norman's chest, then his shoulder and right arm, which made Norman flinch a little.

"Are you saying Merle's gang did this to you?"

Norman nodded.

"I think it was them. Didn' see anyone clearly, t'was dark, an' quick, an' there were so many hands… But if he's mad, they'll come lookin' for me again…"

Rick frowned. "Merle said he doesn't know where you are. As long as you stay here you're safe…"

"But I can' hide in yer house forever, can I?"

For a mad second Rick wanted to tell Norman that that was exactly what he should do, but he realized in time how crazy that would make him sound. Rick didn't say anything for a minute. There just wasn't an easy solution to this.

"We'll worry about that later. For now, you're safe here, and you can rest and heal."

Norman gave a half-nod, half-shrug and looked down at their intertwined fingers. His thumb started caressing Rick's knuckles, which gave Rick goosebumps all down his spine. Norman shifted a little again, seemingly getting restless. Rick thought there must be something else still weighing on his mind. He leaned closer.

"What is it, man? You can tell me…"

Norman didn't seem to have heard him. Rick waited, knowing that pressure was unlikely to achieve anything with this one. When Norman finally spoke his voice was so quiet Rick had to strain to hear him, even though they were mere inches apart.

"These guys, Merle's friends… they… they'd started to pull m'pants down… jus' when, when you…" He took a shaky breath and Rick could hear more tears in his voice. Norman tried again. "Righ' when you scared them off…"

Rick's heart constricted in his chest. No wonder the young man had been so traumatized that night.

"Did they…?"

Norman looked up quickly. "No! No, ya got there in time…"

His eyes filled with tears again and he buried his face against Rick's shoulder. Rick pulled him close and Norman clung to him hard.

"Rick…"

He could feel Norman's breath warm on his neck.

"What is it?"

"Will you… will you sleep with me?"

This time it was Rick who pulled away, but only far enough so he could look Norman in the face, long and hard. Something in his eyes must have been intimidating because Norman looked vaguely alarmed. He didn't look away, though.

"You really want me to. Now."

It wasn't a question, but Norman nodded. Rick nodded, too.

"Of course I will."

-.-

They went upstairs, Rick with his arm around Norman as much for support as to feel him close. Norman held on to him and kept in constant, close physical contact, almost as if he was afraid Rick would change his mind unless he held him back. Norman had nothing to fear, of course. Rick had his doubts whether now was the right time for them to be together for the first time, but there was no question in his mind that he wanted this man, and badly.

But yes, the timing was giving him an increasingly uneasy feeling. Norman was still hurting, even with the painkillers, and Rick was loath to cause him more pain. The younger man seemed strangely vulnerable and fragile in his arms now, and for the first time Rick also noticed just how young he looked.

What was weighing even more on Rick's mind, however, was what Norman had told him about his attackers. Was this the right thing, sleeping with someone who had almost been raped mere days ago? But Norman was more than eager, Rick knew. Still, that didn't mean Rick would not be taking advantage of him…

He brought them both to a halt just outside the guest bedroom. Norman looked at him, anxiety plainly visible on his face.

"Y'don' want me, d'ya?"

He sounded utterly dejected, and it nearly ripped Rick's heart in two. But he had to make sure… Norman tried to pull away, but Rick held on, as gently as he could. Norman's face still creased with discomfort as he attempted to put some distance between them.

"Norman, stop."

The young man ceased his struggling, but shifted nervously from one foot to the other, not looking at Rick.

"Look at me."

After a moment Norman obliged. His eyes had a distant expression, as if he'd already begun to shut off from their emotional involvement. It hurt Rick more than he could say, seeing Norman like this.

"I do, Norman. I really want this. But I need to know that you understand what you're asking. That you want this for the right reason. What you've been through, it's no laughing matter…"

"I know…"

"Do you, though? Your brother and his friends, living with that threat hanging over you all this time. And now this. You're traumatized, and this'll stay with you long after the physical wounds have healed. Do you want this… _us_ because you think somehow I can fix it all? Norman, I'll do whatever I can to keep you safe. And I want us to be more than a quick fuck. But I can't promise anything, right now.

"I hope we can find a way to make this work, but it'll take time. We won't have a fairy tale ending. And us sleeping together won't make Merle go away, or erase the memories of that night. It might actually make it worse…"

Rick didn't even mention his family, but standing here in their home he didn't have to. Their presence was all around them.

The expression in Norman's eyes had changed, they were full of love now. He raised a hand and put a finger on Rick's lips.

"It won't make it worse, I know it won't. I need ya, I need t'feel ya… I've wanted t'so bad, for days… y'were there, y'helped. Y're risking yer job, y'reputation. Y'r family… 's no quick fix, I know, an' y're not my guardian angel. But I want ya, I wanna be yours. I want a future with ya… but right now, I want ya t'fuck me, more'n anything…"

There was nothing more to say, and Rick didn't try any more dissuasion. Instead, he leaned in and kissed Norman, gently at first, but with increasing urgency. Norman fumbled with the door knob behind him and the door swung open. They were through it and half undressed before Rick really knew what was happening.

What followed was not earth shattering sex that Rick still liked to relive years afterwards. It was awkward and painful and slow, but Rick would always remember it, their first time together. How careful they were. How much Norman was still hurting, and how hard he was trying to hide it, to make sure Rick enjoyed himself and didn't feel guilty for causing pain. How the young man looked at him as Rick entered him, how much trust and need were in those eyes.

Rick could tell that their lovemaking really meant more to Norman than just a casual fuck. It felt like the sealing of something more, but Rick got the impression that Norman hadn't shared with him what that something was. He pushed the thought away. It would haunt him later, but at that moment, enjoying their closeness, the feeling of Norman in his arms, beneath him, all around him, crowded out the rest.

The young man clung to him as they approached climax. His hands were everywhere, chest, belly, arms. Norman's blue eyes, half closed, seemed like gateways into another world, and Rick lost himself in them. Norman's hands on him, then on himself, stroking, caressing, pinching. Norman writhing under him, Rick careful not to hold him too hard, reminded of the brutal assault every time he looked at the bruises covering the wide shoulders, the narrow hips. Vulnerable and electrifying at the same time, Rick's feelings coursed and shifted with every thrust.

Breath picking up, sounds, moans, little gasps, nearly pushing Rick over. Norman tilting his pelvis, thrusting down, eager, impatient. A small hiss, tears wet on his cheek suddenly. Pain, or trauma, or arousal, Rick didn't know. He hesitated.

"Don' slow down, man, don' stop… 'm nearly… nearly there… oh god, Rick…"

And Rick picked up the pace again, and Norman's hips bucked off the bed, his own hand tightening round his shaft, and he came, and came, and came… tightening around him, and Rick was there with him, and together they lost track of time and their surroundings.

-.-

"There was something else I wanted to ask you…"

"Hmmm…?"

"Merle, he said that you took his motorbike when he kicked you out. Is it true, did you take it?"

Norman pushed himself up from where he was resting against Rick's chest. He looked outraged and hurt.

"Did he say that? No, I bloody well didn' take his bike…"

"Where is it, then?"

"I don' know," Norman mumbled as he sank back against Rick. He sighed, getting comfortable. "Ijit probably sold hit to his dealer for a shot an' forgot…"

"Hmm…"

Rick absent-mindedly stroked the other's back and could feel Norman relaxing into him, on the verge of sleep. Something seemed off about this whole thing, and Rick's cop instinct was sounding all alarm bells. But for now he could think of nothing that would help solve the mystery.

He looked down and saw that Norman had fallen asleep on his chest, breathing deeply and looking for all the world just as sweet and innocent as Carl. Rick pushed some strands of hair off the other's forehead, then shifted carefully until he was as comfortable as he could be without waking the other man. A nap seemed just the thing now.


	18. Chapter 18

"Are you sure you should be going back already?"

"'ve no choice, do I? If I wanna keep that job… believe me, if I didn' need it…"

Norman glanced up at Lori, making himself as small as he could, one arm cradling his chest as he stood by the stairs. He knew instinctively to appeal to her mothering instinct, but only enough to get her to help him. None of this was any use if she tried to wrap him in cotton wool.

And he needed her help, for the next stage of his plan required the motorcycle. He had to get it from behind the dumpster at the café and hide it somewhere close by until it was required. Which would be very, very soon.

His story to Lori was no complete fabrication either. He had to check in with Barry that prick, or he'd definitely be out of a job. He looked at Lori from under his lashes again, not sure whether the bruises on his face were helping or hindering his persuasiveness with her. Finally, she sighed.

"Oh, all right then, I'll drop you off at the café. You know that Rick will have my skin if something happens to you…"

At the mention of Rick Norman felt a flutter in his stomach, both of nerves and pleasure. If he managed to pull off his plan then their future was secure. But so much hinged on the proof…

Norman contemplated all this while he pulled on his jacket and Lori stepped close to the staircase.

"Carl, come on! We're going to be late…" She turned back to Norman. "You let me know when you're done, all right? I'll pick you up. Just make sure it's before Rick comes home… That's an interesting vest."

She pointed at his back when Norman finally managed to shrug into the denim jacket and the vest. His shoulder was still stiff, and now it was acutely painful again. He had already half a mind to leave off his plans for another week. But he really couldn't afford to, who knew what would happen in that time. Norman was terrified of Merle and his gang, which was just another reason to get the bike away from where he'd been attacked as soon as possible.

"Oh… it was my dad's. He was, like, a real bike enthusiast. He was a car mechanic, but fixin' bikes, and ridin' them, that was his thing. I think he'd've liked t'be in a proper gang. Dunno if he ever tried. I didn' live… I mean, he jus' got t'vest…"

Why was he telling her all this? Was it nerves? But she was smiling at him now, her eyes softening. His openness seemed to have hit the right mark. He smiled back shyly.

"I don' often talk 'bout him. How I came t'be, not a topic they liked much at home…"

He left it at that, waited. Lori looked like she wanted to ask him to elaborate, but then hesitated. Good. A bit of mystery was always good. Then they both got distracted by Carl coming down the stairs.

"Good, there you are! Come on, lots to do today, gonna factor in those extra miles downtown, and we're already late…"

"'m sorry, Lori. I 'preciate everything, I really do…"

She smiled again. "Don't mention it. As a matter of fact, I mean that literally. Probably best not to mention our little outing to Rick at all…"

-.-

Talking to, or rather arguing with, Barry had been about as enjoyable as he'd thought it would be. By the time he left the café Norman was shaking and covered in perspiration. Fighting with his boss had made the pain in his chest and head worse than it had been in days. Something on the inside felt like it had come loose, and each step was increasingly painful. He was starting to feel sick again, and definitely didn't relish the next thing he had to do.

He walked out the side door of the store, took a sharp left and a few steps, then sank against the wall with a shaky groan. For a minute he just concentrated on breathing, which was a difficult enough task, one hand pressed against his throbbing ribs. Norman was trying, and not succeeding very well, to rid himself of the flashing lights before his eyes and the woolly feeling in his ears. He couldn't afford to pass out, not here. What if that idiot Barry found him? He'd definitely lose his job then.

When he thought the worst had finally passed Norman pulled a squashed packet of cigarettes out of his jacket pocket and lit one with shaking fingers. This cigarette was the first one he'd had since the attack, and was not at all helpful for his head, or the nausea that was threatening again. He looked at it with vague disgust and threw it down by the side of the building after only a couple of drags. Something dark and rusty red on the ground a few feet away caught his eye. With a sick feeling he realized it was dried blood. _His_ blood.

Norman was vaguely aware of the feeling of acid burning at the back of his throat before he was doubled over, bringing up the breakfast and coffee Lori had forced on him. The retching made the muscles in his chest hurt something awful, and he whimpered, trying desperately to stay on his feet.

When he was finally able to straighten up without gagging Norman felt dizzy, and his head seemed to want to burst with every heartbeat. He blinked away tears, then wiped his eyes and mouth on his sleeve. He wanted nothing more than to call Lori, have her pick him up, abandon all his plans. He could just crawl back into his bed and wait for Rick to come to him in the evening, like he'd promised he would. He'd confess about the motorcycle theft, and tell Rick about Lori, then let the other man sort it all out.

But he couldn't. He wanted this to work, so he had to do it himself, as usual. So, using all his willpower, and walking with one hand against the wall as far as he could, Norman made his way around to the back where the dumpsters stood, to implement the next stage of his plan.

-.-

"How did you get back? I thought you were going to ring, I was waiting…"

"Got a lift from a colleague…"

"Norman, are you ok? You're pale as a ghost…"

"Think y'might've been right. 'twas a bit much, going there... 'm not feeling great, think'm migh' go t'bed…"

Norman staggered on the few steps towards the stairs and Lori hurried to his sided and just about caught him. A sharp pain shot through his right shoulder and Norman gave a small yelp.

"Sorry, sorry! Tell me what to do…"

"T'other side's better…"

"Ok, lean on me…"

The trip up the stairs was a blur. When Norman finally crawled onto the bed and stretched out slowly he exhaled properly for the first time in what seemed like hours.

The ride back on the bike had been near to impossible, and a few times he was sure he would black out and crash. Then he'd had to find somewhere secluded yet innocuous to park it nearby. By the time he'd found a spot, behind a pair of condos a block away, he'd been unable to hold the tears back any longer, he was in so much pain. That he'd even made it back to the house at all was nothing short of a miracle.

Lori disappeared for a moment, then came back with a glass of water and his pill bottle. She looked at him with a deep frown and shook two tablets into her hand which she held out to him.

"Take them, now."

Norman didn't hesitate. He swallowed the tablets, then drank some water while Lori put the bottle on the bedside table.

"Don't overdose. But they're right here if you need a couple more."

Norman tried to sit up again without much success. He was so lightheaded now the room seemed to be spinning, making him feel sick again. He sank back with a groan. So fucking hot… if he could just take off his clothes…

"What do you need?"

"Jus' my jacket off…"

"Come here."

Lori almost lifted him up and helped him with the jacket. When it brushed his shoulder another sharp stab shot down his arm. He hissed and Lori, in the process of bending down to help with his shoes, looked up.

"Norman, are you going to be sick?"

The answer was, probably, but he really hoped he would be able to control it. The pain it caused him every time he threw up was too awful to contemplate now.

"Maybe… 'm not sure…"

Lori left again in a hurry and returned with a metal basin which she also placed on the bedside table. She gave a stern little smile.

"Just in case."

Norman tried to smile back but couldn't quite manage.

"Thanks…"

"Do you want to take your jeans off as well?"

"Yeah…"

Lori helped him stand up, which made the dizziness surge anew. Norman tensed up, but Lori held him firm. She quickly undid his buttons for him, just like she'd help Carl, he thought. When she'd pulled down his pants and he'd clumsily stepped out of them she helped him to lower himself back down carefully.

For a moment, looking at Lori as she put his pants neatly on a chair and lined his shoes up underneath, Norman felt a stab of guilt about the plan that was taking shape in his mind. But he knew he'd have to be hard if he wanted to achieve his goal. And anyway, she deserved what she was going to get for making Rick miserable, whether she was being nice to him now or not.

"Thank you, Lori, for everything."

She looked at him, and he meant it. By having an affair with Shane Norman's guilt for what he was about to do was really nearly non-existent most of the time. Lori smiled again, and he realized how totally oblivious to his thoughts she was, hidden so well behind his carefully cultivated charm. Lori walked over to the door. Before she closed it behind her she looked him over critically once more.

"Best now to let those painkillers do their work."

Norman nodded and as the door fell shut he closed his eyes. He was asleep within minutes.

-.-

"You let him do WHAT?!"

Norman awoke with a start at the noise, right into a volley of pain that shot through his torso at the sudden movement.

That was Rick's voice, yelling downstairs. Norman listened. The voices carried from what he thought must be the foot of the stairs, despite his bedroom door being shut tight. Lori, not yelling as loudly, was not as clearly audible, but Norman got the gist of it nevertheless.

"…my call what he does. You brought him here. You don't like what he does? You control him…"

"I didn't say you had to control him! But he's hurt! And…"

"And what?!"

"Nothing… how did he get into town anyway?"

"…a lift."

"Well, you should've told him no!"

"Why don't you yell at him? It's not my fault your… your…"

"My what, Lori?!"

Norman couldn't hear what Lori said next, or if she said anything. The next thing he heard were muttered curses, then footsteps. Norman tensed as his bedroom door flew open without a knock. Rick's face wore a mix of anger and worry, and Norman's heart sped up. The tension and apprehension made his chest and head hurt, and he pulled his legs up as far as he could under the blankets, not even realizing he'd done it until he saw Rick's gaze soften. He also realized he was shivering hard enough to make his teeth chatter.

Rick took a couple of steps towards him and Norman couldn't help but flinch back before the other man was even close enough to touch. Rick must have seen the discomfort that caused on his face because he stopped dead in his tracks.

Norman had been sure Rick was going to yell at him, but he controlled himself now with visible effort. When he spoke his voice was quiet.

"I'm not gonna shout. Just tell me why you did it."

Norman relaxed a little, and Rick, interpreting the signals correctly, covered the remaining distance to the bed. He sat down on the edge, facing Norman, whose heart was still beating fast. He didn't even know why he should be scared of Rick's reaction, even if he was going to yell. Somehow, the other man's disapproval was unbearable to him. Rick, probably sensing Norman's continued tension, made no move to touch him.

"Why did you go there, Norman?"

He sounded so sad Norman was almost tempted to tell the truth. But he knew he couldn't, it would ruin his plans, and their future together. Instead, he decided to share the bit of truth he could.

"Had t'talk to Barry. Find out if I still got a job…"

"And do you?"

"If I'm back at work on Friday, yeah…"

"Norman…"

"I know, I know! After today 'm not sure I can, either…"

Norman felt his eyes fill with tears. He hastily tried to wipe them away and averted his face. He was sick of the pain, and feeling weak and helpless. And now it might cost him his job as well… This job had meant the first bit of independence he'd ever had, from the kind of life Merle and his stepfather had tried to make sure would be all he was good for. Earning honest money, even the ridiculously low hourly wage he was on, meant he could move away from a life of either poverty or crime.

Rick's fingers gently alighted on his chin and he turned Norman's face around. He fixed him with a look full of affection and – Norman's heart gave a flutter – full of love.

"That place is not the only one that's hiring out there." He raised his hand as Norman started to say something. "I know, you think that's easy for me to say. And yeah, maybe it is. But you're not ready to go back to work in two days' time."

Norman tried to look away but found it hard to resist Rick's gaze, which had taken on an almost painful intensity.

"But I promise you this: When you are well again I'll help you find a new job, if you need me to. I know people, see?" He winked, and Norman almost smiled. "I know, that's favoritism, but so what? I've never taken advantage of it before. If I can't even help the one person I… The least I can do is help a friend."

Tears were now rolling down Norman's face again, and Rick wiped some away gently with his thumb.

"No more tears, now… This too will pass…"

Rick looked around, probably for a tissue box, and saw the pills and the basin on the bedside table. He looked back at Norman with concern again.

"You still throwing up?"

Norman shook his head. "I was, earlier. 's jus' a precaution now…"

Rick looked a little relieved. "Guess I can't interest you in dinner though, huh?"

Norman shuddered and shook his head again.

"No, thanks. Not tonight… Rick..." He took the other man's hand in both of his, noticing how weak and numb the right one was still feeling. "'m sorry you'n Lori were fightin'…"

Now it was Rick who looked away. "It's not your fault, we've been like this a long time…"

"'m adding to t'stress tho… Lori's been so nice, 'm sorry…" He brought Rick's fingers to his lips and kissed them gently. Rick looked down with an odd expression on his face. Norman managed a small smile.

"This too will pass, Rick."


	19. Chapter 19

He was freezing, crouching by Merle's bike, watching the house. He'd been out here nearly an hour, and his muscles were stiff and achy. His injured chest hurt more than it had all day. How he wished to be pain free, just for five minutes! He was getting so tired of this…

Norman seriously contemplated just going back inside, he didn't think he could stand this much longer. But that would mean giving up on his plan, giving up on his and Rick's future together.

He continued his vigil.

When Lori finally stepped out of the house and got into her car Norman was nearly crying with the pain. He knew she couldn't see him but he stayed low as long as he could manage. Lori didn't look about her, and she certainly didn't expect him to be out here. He'd crept out of the house silently after spending the day in bed. Lori had checked on him a couple of times, but he'd pretended to be asleep.

Maybe she'd checked on him more often, he wouldn't know. He'd indeed been asleep for most of the day. While the real reason for his trip to the café had to remain a secret, the effects that outing had had on him were all too real. He was hurting badly, and he knew that what he was planning for this evening would make him feel a lot worse. But he couldn't afford to wait, so he'd just have to put up with the discomfort.

When Lori's car was a good ways down the road Norman clambered awkwardly on Merle's bike, bracing himself against the new volley of pain to his chest, and pulled the visor of his helmet down. He'd left his dad's vest in his room, so Lori should be unable to tell who it was on the bike even if she glimpsed him in the rear view mirror.

The roads were not busy, and Lori was driving slowly, so it was not hard to follow her at a safe distance. The ride was short, barely more than ten minutes, but every moment was agony for Norman. His crouched position on the bike, and each acceleration, were sending shooting pain through every busted rib, and by the time Lori slowed down, then came to a stop, it was all he could do to keep the bike upright, he felt so dizzy.

His vision was blurred with tears but Norman waited, engine still running, until Lori had gotten out of the car and walked up the path leading to one of the small houses in the street. She knocked, and a few moments later the door opened and she disappeared through it.

Only now did Norman shut off the engine and got off the bike. He fumbled with his helmet, then pulled it off with shaking hands, and not a moment too soon. As he doubled over, retching in the gutter, he thought once again that this might not actually be worth all the pain and misery. Maybe there was a better way to achieve his goals… But so far he'd not been able to come up with one, so he just held on to the saddle of the bike until his stomach calmed down enough for him to stop vomiting.

The plan had been to hide the bike as far away as he could, but he just didn't have the strength any longer. So he simply put the helmet on the ground next to the back tire and the keys into his pockets. Then he slowly walked over to Lori's car to wait.

-.-

"Hello, Lori."

She stopped, staring at him with horror, just as expected. Norman tried to smile as unconcernedly as he could manage, trying to ignore the pounding in his head, the burning of acid in his throat. The nausea that came in waves.

"You… What… How?"

She looked around frantically. Checking if nobody had seen him? Trying to find out how he'd gotten there? He didn't know, didn't really care. He just needed this to be over, and quickly.

"I know what you're doing, with Shane."

He let that sink in for a moment. Her eyes were wild, but she couldn't, wouldn't look away. Like a deer in the headlights, Norman thought without pity. He pressed on.

"Here's what we're gonna do. We'll go home. Tomorrow you tell Rick you need to go see your parents. You leave Carl with us, and you do not fight Rick for joint custody when you ask him for a divorce."

"Are you mad? Why would I agree to any of that?"

"Because if you don't I'll tell him that you've been having an affair with his partner right under his nose. You know what that'll do to him…"

The pain in his chest was getting overwhelming. Norman wanted nothing more than to lie down. He put his arm around his ribs, trying to breathe through it, not letting Lori see how close he was to giving up.

"And why would he believe you, rather than me?"

If Lori had known how scared she sounded she would have been appalled, he was sure. He gave her his most winning smile, careful not to let it reach his eyes.

"C'mon Lori, you know why… You know what Rick and I are, you're not stupid. Who will he believe? And what if I tell him how you've been mistreating his son? Do you think he'll let you keep Carl until the custody hearing, after that? You might not see your son for months…"

Her eyes grew even wider now. "I didn't do anything to my son!"

"You and I might know that, but will be believe you, when it's your word against mine? His lying, cheating wife, rather than his lover?"

Norman looked at her, putting his last bit of willpower into staring her down. "I have his ear, Lori. I have his _heart_ …"

Suddenly her eyes became hard, and a small, calculating smile played around her mouth. Norman didn't like the look of it at all.

"If you tell him any of this I might just tell Rick a few things myself…"

He felt a prickle of fear at that. Lori's voice was calmer, braver, as she continued.

"Shane has made enquiries, you see. Maybe I'll tell Rick about that boy that went missing? Brother of your friend Glenn, was it? And Shane also mentioned your brother's motorbike. You took it, didn't you? Did you tell Rick that?" She considered, waited. "No, I didn't think so. Or you wouldn't be so sure my husband would believe you. He doesn't like thieves, you see? Any more than he likes an adulteress…"

"You have no proof…"

He knew his voice sounded feeble now. The nausea was so strong Norman could hardly force the words out.

"No, I don't. But you don't have any, either. So where does that leave us?"

Suddenly it all got too much and Norman bent over, heaving. His head felt like it was about to burst, and his chest was being slowly squeezed by a giant's iron fist. He crumpled to the ground, shaking hard.

Only vaguely aware of his surroundings he didn't notice Lori stepping close until she put a hand on his neck. For a moment her cool fingers were almost soothing, before she clamped down hard. Norman cried out, tried to get away, but he had no strength left. Lori leaned down and almost whispered.

"I suggest you forget your little plan. It won't work, you see. But I'll make you a deal: You keep your mouth shut, and I'll let you stay. Keep my husband occupied, and I'll suggest to him you move in with us for good. I won't breathe a word of your secrets, either. That way, we both get what we want. How about that?"

Norman knew he was defeated. Rick could never learn about the boy, not before Norman had won him over all the way, and not from Lori or Shane. He realized there was nothing for it for the moment. Lori had won. If he agreed to her terms now at least there would still be a chance. He nodded weakly.

"Good." Her hand vanished from his neck. "Now, get in the car. I'll get you home before he's back, or he'll be suspicious."

Norman pulled himself up to standing with some difficulty, holding on to the car. He opened the door with shaking hands and crawled into the passenger seat, keeping his eyes averted from Lori as she got in and started the engine.

Norman knew this wasn't the end of it, though. This was not her game to win, it was his. And he knew what would come next. Growing up as he had didn't give you many advantages in life. But it had given him one. He knew to always plan an escape route, because you never knew when you'd find yourself in a situation where it could save your life.

He knew what he had to do now.


	20. Chapter 20

"Hey… why're you up here? You stayed in bed all day? Norman, are you ok? Lori told me you'd gone to bed early last night, so I didn't check on you, but I was worried. And you look like I have good reason to be…"

"'m fine, Rick, really. Jus' tired… I, uh, walked outside a bit, yesterday and today. Jus' to get some exercise, like in the hospital, y'know? They make you walk around when you had an operation…"

Norman knew it was a feeble lie, and Rick didn't look like he really bought it, but it was the best Norman could come up with at short notice. His head was pounding and he felt a little sick again, too.

It wasn't a complete lie, anyway. He'd left the house in the morning, in full view of Lori. He hadn't exactly gone out to walk for exercise, but he'd ended up doing plenty of it. His battered body had also gotten a good work-out in the afternoon. What he'd been up to, after retrieving the bike from where he'd left it the night before, Norman would have to keep forever secret.

Being in the house with Lori had been uncomfortable, but they had mostly avoided each other. Around lunchtime, when Norman had just returned from his first foray outside, there'd been a knock on his bedroom door and when he'd opened it a tray with his lunch had been sitting on the floor. Evidently Lori didn't want him anywhere near her son who, after a sleepover at a friend's house, had today off from school.

Norman had forced himself to eat some of the sandwich and soup Lori had prepared for him, even though the mere thought of food had made him feel nauseous again. He needed all the energy he could get, after all. He'd contemplated briefly the possibility that the food was poisoned, and wouldn't that have been a fucking ironic turn of events.

Evidently it hadn't been poisoned, but it made him feel plenty sick to his stomach all the same. Which had been unhelpful as he'd tried to concentrate on his mission in the afternoon. It was essential to get it exactly right.

Rick, who'd sat down on the edge of the bed with a worried frown, suddenly seemed to remember something. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a new bottle of painkillers.

"Knew you were running low. Want a couple now?"

"Yeah, thanks."

Norman pushed himself up, wincing. He leaned against the headboard with a sigh and watched Rick shake two pills from the bottle, which he handed to him. Then he poured Norman some water from a jug on the side cabinet. Norman swallowed the pills gratefully. He'd taken the remaining two from the last bottle that morning before realizing he'd be without pain relief now until Rick remembered to bring more.

How he hated being reliant on others, even on the man he loved. But it would all change soon, and his and Rick's would be a more equal partnership.

While Norman leaned back and waited for the painkillers to take the edge off the headache and the knives slicing into his chest he watched Rick as the other man put the room in order. He wondered vaguely what Lori had said to him, if anything, about the previous day. He was pretty certain she wouldn't breathed a word. Lori was bound to be as worried as he was about the truth coming out, and she needed their truce to hold.

Still, Norman knew he wouldn't be able to rest easy until he'd accomplished his last, and hardest, task.

"Hey, what's that on your hand?"

Rick had turned back to him and his words disturbed Norman's musings.

"Huh?"

He looked at the dark smear on the outside of his left hand and wrist, and his heart missed a beat. His brain was becoming sluggish with the drugs, but he gave Rick his best unconcerned smile.

"Oh, I must've leaned on something outside. Got a bit dizzy, held onto a wall for a little while."

He rubbed at the smear but it hardly budget. Rick seemed satisfied with the explanation. He grinned.

"You're like Carl, another little boy to take care of. Never mind, I'll give you a bath again. I enjoyed that."

Norman smiled back, feeling relieved.

"Yeah, me too."

Rick was now toeing off his shoes, which, even in the impending narcotics haze, seemed odd to Norman.

"You staying the night, man?"

Rick went over to the bedroom door and locked it from the inside. Then he turned and smiled at Norman, and Norman knew what was coming. It made him feel both happy and apprehensive.

"If you don't mind? I want some alone time for us, if you're up for it…"

"What about Lori?"

Rick shrugged. "What about her? I don't think she cares any longer about us making our marriage work, so why should I?"

He came over to the bed, but stopped a few feet away, hand on his fly, hesitating.

"You really up for this?"

Norman's head felt buzzy from the medication, but the splitting headache was subsiding. He nodded and patted the bed next to him.

"Always."

Rick's eyes on him, and his smile, made Norman's heart skip another beat, this time from pleasure.

"I'll be gentle."

"You always are."

Norman shifted on the mattress to make room while Rick stepped out of his pants and threw them over a chair. He unbuttoned his shirt and let that follow, along with his t-shirt. Norman pulled his own tee off awkwardly. Looking down at his bruises still made him feel slightly faint every time, but at least they were finally starting to fade around the edges. Rick sank down next to him with a sigh.

Turning over onto his left side Norman was careful not to put too much pressure on his ribcage. When Rick had adjusted himself comfortably on the pillow next to him Norman placed his hand on the other man's bare chest. Rick looked down at the hand, then up into Norman's face. Keeping his gaze locked with his lover's Norman let his hand glide down slowly, finally alighting on the waistband of Rick's boxer shorts.

"Are you sure you can do this tonight?"

"Yes, 'm sure we can do something. Not gonna be any good at acrobatics for a while, but if you're your usual careful self, old man, we're good."

Rick gave a little snort, then took Norman's hand and placed it firmly on his bulge. Norman looked down at his hand on Rick's already sizeable erection, and the sight, together with the feeling of Rick warm and hard in his hand, made his own body react instantly. Norman tightened his fingers and Rick gave a soft moan, arching his head back.

Norman started rubbing Rick through the fabric, eyes carefully trained on his lover's face. As the other's breathing sped up he increased the pressure until Rick was panting heavily. As he'd known it would Rick's hand finally stopped him. Eyes still mostly closed Rick squinted over from under his lids.

"You tryin' to finish me off with no effort on your end?"

Rick's voice heavy with arousal was half-teasing, but Norman could hear some worry in it, too. Rick opened his eyes wider and looked at him with such gentleness Norman's chest felt suddenly tight.

"Seriously, though. We can do just this, if you want? Might be nice, and it won't hurt you…"

Norman considered for a moment, then nodded with some hesitation. He didn't like to admit it, but the thought of the pain that would invariably result from their lovemaking had stressed him.

"All right." Rick turned over to face him. "But we can still do this properly."

His hands wandered to Norman's waistband and started pulling down his underwear slowly. Norman lifted his hips and Rick pulled his boxer shorts down and off, then dropped them over the side of the bed. His own followed a moment later. He stretched out again, looking at Norman steadily.

Norman's heart was beating fast. That gaze on him, and the sight of Rick's arousal made him yearn for the other man so much, it was almost painful. Again he silently cursed his broken body that was preventing them from being together properly.

Rick's gaze now also started traveling the length of Norman's body, past the bruised chest, halting on Norman's erection. Slowly, almost dreamlike, Rick reached out and closed his hand around him.

Norman shuddered at the touch. He was rock hard now, and whether it was the painkillers or the tension he'd felt the last few days, the sensation of gentle fingers on his cock was more stimulating, more electrifying, than he'd experienced in a long time. He closed his eyes as Rick's hand started moving along his shaft in slow, rhythmic strokes.

For a while Norman just let himself be lost in the moment. Rick didn't rush, he didn't expect anything in return just that second, Norman knew, and he was grateful for the pleasure he was receiving at the other's hands. When he finally opened his eyes he found Rick's gaze still on him.

"I love watching you, man… I could just do this forever…"

Norman moved closer until there were only a few inches between them. He raised his hand and let it alight first on Rick's face, trailing the outline of his jaw, slowly traveling downwards. The hollow of his throat. Chest, nipples. Gentle tightening of fingers. A hiss, moans, and Rick's eyes closed for a moment.

As his hand reached Rick's belly Norman leaned in and kissed the other man. It was gentle and slow at first, but Rick now grew impatient, demanding. Tongues, licks, little nips of pleasure. Teeth catching lips, biting, urging, wanting more. Hot breath, little noises, of pleasure, want, desire.

Norman's hand closed on Rick's erection. Their proximity meant limited movement, but that did not detract from either man's pleasure. The sensations were strong enough to bring them both, bring them completely. More speed could not improve on this experience.

Norman felt himself tremble, felt the same from Rick. Heartrate increasing, fast breaths almost hurting his chest. He knew he was only moments away. He moved even closer to Rick, desperate for contact now, for their erections to come together.

Rick seemed to share the desire and he pulled Norman close. Both of them moaned as hot, soft skin, hardness, arousal, met its twin. The sensation of his own and Rick's cock hot against his belly made Norman moan again. Hands trapped now, he hardly knew whose fingers were stroking him, stroking Rick. His gaze locked on his lover's face.

"So close, man. 'm gonna come…"

"I'm too… Oh god… Norman…"

Rick's hand tightened as he reached the edge, and Norman could feel the tension peaking, deep inside him. He tightened his own fingers just as he tipped over into orgasm himself. Rick was there with him, he could feel him pulse into his hand, hot breath against his face. Norman caught Rick's mouth hungrily in a kiss, felt Rick respond with urgency.

Their shared climax seemed to go on for an eternity. They held still, held each other, let themselves get carried on that wave of bliss.

In this moment Norman felt no pain. For now, all he needed was here. Rick in his bed, his man's hands on him. Endorphins flooding his system. And now he knew, it would all be worth it in the end.


	21. Chapter 21

"Hello?"

"Is this Rick? Officer Rick Grimes?"

"It is, yes. Who is this?"

"Sir, I'm calling from Grady Memorial Hospital in Atlanta. I'm afraid I have bad news. Your wife, Lori, has been involved in a car accident."

"What? Where? She wasn't supposed to be going anywhere today…"

"I'm sorry, sir, I don't know. Can you come to the hospital?"

"Yes… yes of course. How bad is it?"

"Rick, I'm not allowed to discuss a patient's condition over the phone. But don't delay setting off, if you can help it."


	22. Chapter 22

Rick was at the station when he got the phone call from the hospital. He and Shane were about to go on patrol. It was Saturday evening and they had the late shift. Instead of heading for their patrol car Rick hurried for his own vehicle, Shane on his heels. They passed their colleague Lenny in the corridor and Rick called to him while rushing past, "Got a family emergency, tell the sheriff, will you?"

"What is it, man?" Shane was right behind him.

"Lori. She's been hurt. I'm going to Atlanta."

Shane caught up with him then and even got to his car first. Rick was distractedly grateful that his partner was coming along without needing to be asked.

Not a word was exchanged on the drive. It took them only about two-thirds of the usual time to Atlanta. Rick didn't even realize he was speeding until they arrived at the hospital ahead of the time he'd estimated. Shane hadn't commented on it, either. Later, Rick would sometimes wonder why Shane had appeared just as numb as he felt. But at the time his mind had enough to mull over, and he had no thought to spare for anything outside himself.

Had someone asked him what he was feeling on that drive he would have been unable to give a straight answer. Guilt was probably overall the prevalent feeling, rushing at him again and again in waves. But even to himself, putting it in words what he was feeling guilty about, was near impossible. Not trying harder to save their marriage? Starting an affair in their own home? Blaming Lori alone for the breakdown of their marriage? He didn't know.

They got to Grady Memorial Hospital just when the sun was completely disappearing behind the horizon. Rick would have trouble later to find his car again, and Shane would be no help. He hardly paid attention that the car was even aligned with the curb, and had no idea where they were other than that he could see the hospital entrance from there. Rick was still locking up while Shane was hurrying, almost running, towards the ER. Rick followed.

"We're looking for Lori Grimes. She was in an accident."

Rick wondered at the hoarseness of his voice, finally realizing he'd not spoken in over an hour. Even though Shane had gotten to reception before him he seemed unable to speak and just stood there, looking so helpless Rick felt distractedly sorry for him. What was going on with his partner?

Rick was leaning against the nurse's station next to Shane, at once hyperaware of the bright lights and the noise all around him, and terribly, sickeningly numb on the inside. The nurse in charge was still looking at the screen.

"Rick!"

Rick looked up. Norman was coming towards them from a waiting area at the back of the ER entrance hall. Rick pushed himself off the counter and walked around it, meeting Norman halfway. Norman, face set and worried looking, didn't hesitate and flung his arms around him. Rick hugged him back, and wished they could just stay like that, Norman anchoring him, making sure he stayed in the here and now. But he knew that that was a bad idea, and his lover seemed to share the conviction because they both let go of each other quickly. Rick looked at the other man.

"How did you know?"

"They called t'house. The hospital, I mean... I made them tell me where they were calling from. At first I was sure they were callin' 'bout you. They wouldn' even give me a name…"

He noticed how strong Norman's redneck accent suddenly was. He looked at him closely and could see his pupils were tiny. He must have taken an extra large dose of painkillers before setting off. Rick couldn't blame him.

Suddenly, Rick's heart skipped a beat. "Carl. Where is he?"

"At a friend's, I think. Sophia? Lori took him there jus' after lunch..."

"What happened to her, do you know?"

"They won' tell me anything. I jus' know that she had a phone call, jus' when she'd come back from dropping Carl off. She near as ran from t'house, she didn' say anything t'me. Did she not try t'call you?"

Rick shook his head. "No, I don't think so… Norman, which one's her doctor, do you know?"

Norman glanced behind Rick, then gestured. "It's him, there, t'one jus' comin' now."

Rick turned around, but was distracted by Shane. His partner was not looking at him, or the doctor. Shane's eyes were glued to Norman, his expression strange. Was it suspicion Rick saw there, even mistrust? Norman seemed not to have noticed.

"Are you Rick?"

Rick dragged his eyes away from Shane and focused on the doctor.

"Yes… yes, I'm Rick Grimes."

The doctor indicated a door next to the nurse's desk.

"Rick, would you come with me?" He glanced at Norman who was still right by Rick's side. "Just you, if you…"

"No. He's coming with me." Rick almost took Norman's hand, then thought better of it. Instead, he glanced around at Shane again. "And my partner here, too."

The doctor looked unconvinced, glancing from Rick to Norman, to Shane. Then he sighed and nodded, indicating the door again.

"We can go in there for privacy."

He opened the door and Rick went through after him. He could feel Shane step close at his right. His partner seemed to be trembling and was clenching and unclenching his fists repeatedly. Rick heard the door close behind them. He felt Norman right next to him on his other side, then his lover leaned against him lightly.

The doctor cleared his throat, then fixed his gaze on Rick.

"Rick, Lori was brought to us at 3.30pm with extensive injuries resulting from a car accident. From what we know she veered off the highway, and her brakes malfunctioned. Her car shot down into a ravine and came to lie on its roof. Atlanta police will be able to give you more details, I'm sure.

When she was brought in Lori wasn't breathing on her own. The EMTs had had to shock her because her heart had stopped beating at the crash site. She had lost a lot of blood from internal injuries, and had sustained a serious head wound. We worked on her for a long time…"

Rick's mind veered off course. He knew what the doctor's speech meant. He'd heard one just like it many times in his professional life. In fact, he could have probably recited the rest of it just as well as the doc. Rick felt Norman shift and lean into him with more force. He was grateful for the support, both emotionally and physically. The doctor was still talking.

"Her heart stopped again. We tried to get it started for nearly an hour, but we were not successful. Her brain injuries were too severe." He took a deep breath and clasped his hands in front of him. "I'm sorry, Rick. Lori died from her injuries."

Rick could feel Shane shaking violently. His partner swayed, then gripped for the back of a chair just to his right, leaning on it heavily. For a moment nobody else moved, and nobody spoke. Then Shane straightened up and turned around. Rick glanced at him, astonished, when he walked slowly to the door, opened it, and vanished from the room.

When Shane had disappeared Rick turned back to face the doctor. A wave of total exhaustion suddenly washed over him, and his legs buckled. He would have crumpled to the floor if Norman hadn't caught him round the middle at the last second. Somehow he and the doctor got Rick onto a sofa standing against the back wall of the room. Rick sank onto it, shaking himself now.

He was only vaguely aware of Norman sitting down next to him gingerly. His lover's careful movement caught his full attention, however, and he focused his gaze on the other man. Norman's face was pale, and he was clutching hard at his ribcage again. Rick reached out, caught the other one's hand in his. Norman looked at him, the familiar pain etched deeply into his face.

"You hurt yourself when you grabbed me… you shouldn't have…"

Norman shrugged. "Doesn't matter, it'll pass in a moment. Oh, Rick…"

And looking at his lover's face the reality of what had just happened fully broke over Rick. His throat felt suddenly tight, and he was aware that he had started to cry when he saw the tears mirrored in Norman's eyes.

Bracing himself, Norman reached out and pulled Rick close. Rick sank into his lover, the man who meant more to him than his own life, and let the despair carry him away.


	23. Chapter 23

The funeral had been well attended, and very, very sad. Norman had had no problem shedding tears – he hated seeing Rick suffer, and that he had shed tears for his lover rather than his lover's dead wife nobody needed to know.

They were all back at the house now, serving finger sandwiches and booze to family and friends. All the female relatives, it seemed, had brought along some covered dish or casserole, and their freezer and fridge were now full to bursting with them. Norman had quietly wondered how two men and one boy could be expected to eat that much. Strange customs they had, these well-to-do folk.

He was staying away from the people that were milling about the house, and they ignored him for the most part. After all, he was only the weird, homeless lodger Lori had had the mercy to take in and feed. At least that was what Norman had overheard an elderly family friend say to her husband. He didn't mind in the least. Misconceptions like this, and staying in the shadows, suited him just fine.

Norman kept an eye on Rick, though. He'd already had to rescue him from the cloying attention of several of Lori's friends that went on just a little too long about how tragic this all was, and how lonely Rick must now be feeling.

He also kept an eye on Carl, who, after being nearly catatonic for the first few days following his mother's death, was now prone to random crying fits that usually ended with Rick and Norman wrestling him to the floor and holding him down until he was too exhausted to go on screaming. Norman scanned the room for the boy. All was well, he was sitting in a corner with his friend Sophia.

A moment later, cursing himself for his inattentiveness, Norman found himself face to face with Shane. He'd so far avoided his lover's partner, suspecting that Shane – who had been Lori's lover, after all – was the most likely direction from which his new life with Rick would come under threat. Norman looked around surreptitiously, but nobody was in earshot. Rick was all the way across the room, sitting with Lori's elderly parents, looking somber and deeply engaged in conversation. No rescue in sight. But also nobody who might overhear Shane making accusations Norman might have a hard time explaining away.

Attack with politeness, then.

"Can I get you a drink, or a sandwich, maybe?"

Shane, ignoring Norman's offer, stepped very close. "Don't think you can pull that Innocent Blue Eyes shit with me, _buddy_. I know what you did…"

Norman raised an eyebrow. "Shane, I don't…"

"Oh yes, you do know what I'm talking about. Did you know there's a witness to the accident, huh? They saw Lori…" Norman noticed Shane's throat working hard to get the words out without choking "…saw her go off the road. They say a motorcycle cut in front of her. She swerved to avoid it, and…"

Norman met Shane's gaze steadily. "No biker's come forward, right? No motorcycle has been found…"

"No, because you hid your brother's bike somewhere!" Shane's voice was a notch or two too loud now, and several people were looking over at them. Shane took a deep breath and forced his voice down as he continued.

"I looked you up, man. I know about the Rhee boy, that kid who drowned… What did he do, huh? Did he threaten to tell his parents about you and his brother? You killed him for nothing, didn't you? Where's your beau Glenn now, eh?"

"That's slander, Shane. You should be more careful, I might tell Rick what you said to me tonight…"

Shane scoffed. "No you won't. You don't want anything to throw the least bit of a shadow on yourself in his eyes. His golden boy…"

Shane looked away, and Norman could see his eyes fill with tears.

"Did you know that she was pregnant?"

Shane looked back at him, and Norman felt fleetingly sorry for the man.

"Did you, huh?"

Norman looked away. They had been told that Lori had been pregnant when she died, yes. Norman had not told Rick that the baby was most likely Shane's. Rick was still blissfully oblivious to his wife's greatest betrayal. No need to cause his lover more anguish, or give Shane more reason to want him, Norman, dead.

Shane now gave a shaky sigh, collected himself with difficulty. "I know I can't prove any of it. But don't think I'll just forget. She left a message on her parents' answer phone, saying she'd had a call from the hospital telling her that her dad was dying. That was you, wasn't it? Calling her, frightening her, so she would rush away without telling anyone…"

He had to take another break, look down, his voice was shaking too much. When he looked back at Norman his eyes were full of hatred. "They might not have found any evidence that someone tampered with the brakes yet, but I won't give up. I have a lot of people who owe me a favor, and I'll find someone who'll be able to tell me what you did…"

Norman forced himself to look at Shane with polite puzzlement until the cop, with one last look of disgust and an impatient grunt, walked away.

Rick caught Norman's gaze and raised an eyebrow. Norman shrugged, then shook his head. _All ok. No idea what that was._ He knew Rick understood what Norman was trying to convey. He gave a small smile, a nod, then turned his attention back to Lori's dad.

Norman's eyes stayed on his lover's features a moment longer. He and Rick had become increasingly close since Lori's death. Ever since that awful night at the hospital they'd hardly left each other's side. Rick spent every night in Norman's room, returning to the master bedroom only to dress, and for Carl to see him emerge from it in the mornings. They had not discussed this, it had just happened, and it felt right.

Rick had not returned to full-time duty at the station yet, but he would soon. This they had discussed. Norman would stay home for the moment, tend to the house, and to Carl. He had of course lost his job when he hadn't returned to work as stipulated by Barry. It didn't worry him in the slightest. Rick had given him a home, and a place in his life. Rick needed him, and in him and Carl Norman had a family that cared for him for the first time in his life.

As Norman tidied the table with the drinks on the far end of the room he thought about just how well everything had worked out in the end. He was safe from Merle and his gang. They would never attack him again, not once it was known that he was under the personal protection of Rick Grimes.

And nobody would ever find Merle's bike. It was resting safely at the bottom of a quarry, weighed down with stones. Timing had been tight there for a bit. Norman had had to hitch a ride back to Rick's house in time for the phone call from Grady Memorial Hospital. He'd been hurting terribly once he got back home, and had been awfully sick later that night at the hospital, from the overdose of painkillers he'd taken before calling a taxi to go into Atlanta. His condition had given Rick another fright, but it had just served to drive home to his lover how much Norman needed him, and that he was not allowed to give in to despair.

Norman's mind returned to Shane, weighing up just how much of a threat the other cop really was. Of course, there was no proof for any of Shane's suspicions, but it was still disquieting just how accurately he'd put the pieces together. The incidence with Glenn's brother had been widely reported at the time, and a cloud of suspicion had formed around Norman then that had never entirely lifted. Nothing had been proven, but it would be a risk, if Shane ever brought this up with Rick.

The car was no issue. Norman considered he'd been wrong to think that the jacket and vest were the only things his dad had left him. The fact that he'd been an exceptional car mechanic, and that he'd taught his son all the tricks he'd known, had never seemed a great legacy to Norman – until now. Nobody would be able to prove that those brakes in Lori's car had been tampered with. Material fatigue, that was the worst they'd be able to assert.

Would Shane risk it anyway? Risk his career, his friendship with Rick? Norman knew that Shane was aware that should he ever breathe a word of his suspicions Norman would tell his lover about his best friend's affair with his now dead wife. Rick would believe him, and if he had any doubt Norman could insist he have the fetus tested that Lori had been carrying. Norman didn't think Shane would take that risk.

He looked over at his lover, and a powerful feeling of warm affection washed over him at the sight of the familiar face, that body he was getting to know better every night. If anything appeared to risk their future together Norman was now certain he would not hesitate to rid them of that threat. He'd not shied away from his responsibility so far, and the rewards had been more than worth the pain.

But he didn't think it'd ever come to that. Shane would keep his peace. For now, they were safe.


	24. Chapter 24

Thank you, everyone, for reading! :) And thank you for your faith, despite the idiosyncratic choice of name for my main protagonist.

One of the main inspirations for the character was the young man in Dark Harbor, of course. Also, Norman (the real one) has commented on many occasions on how his characters tend to often be killers. I am hoping he'd not be too horrified I got inspired by that trend and borrowed his name, to boot.

I find that the characters he's played are often tragic, and while they're dark they're not necessarily evil. They just survive the best they can under the circumstances. That's what I was aiming for here, too. While my fictional Norman was certainly no saint I hope that there was enough sweetness and sadness to not paint him completely as the villain, either.

 **And let me just stress again: This story is utterly, completely made up. No inspiration was drawn from real life events. The Norman in this story shares nothing with the real Norman Reedus except his name - and his angelic good looks. ;)**


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